


Indigenous

by restfulsky5



Series: Indigenous [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alien Culture, Angst, Blind Jim, Bonds, Broken Friendships, Emotional Healing, Emotional Hurt, Forced Mind Meld, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Jim, Hurt/Comfort, Male Friendship, Mind Rape, Mind melds, Psychological Trauma, Re'an alien culture, Snakes, Suspense, Tarsus IV, Triumvirate, Xenophobia, and more snakes..., hidden agendas, mental manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 44
Words: 232,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3168938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/restfulsky5/pseuds/restfulsky5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The two of them were at odds, broken in friendship. McCoy, for once in his career, didn't know how to fix things. He, the physician, the one who was supposed to heal, could only rub raw the festering wounds of his best friend. </p><p>As the Enterprise crew rediscovers a lost species, Jim's world falls apart. Losing his best friend was only the beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Jumping in for the first time here at A03! This is not my first ST story, but it is the first time for me attacking such an angst-filled and emotional work. This is the first fic in the Indigenous verse, so you haven't missed anything yet! I have four fics in my Escape Artist verse already completed. 
> 
> This story is pretty twisty, and I guarantee there may be times you'll say 'huh?' before it all comes together. Although Tarsus plays a little in this fic, it is not a main plot point. Also, I wrote this story with the triumvirate in mind. However, it 'may' take awhile to get there. Just hang in there with me, please! I do hope you enjoy the story! 
> 
> I must thank my beta reader, DLB48, for all her hardwork editing and giving suggestions throughout this whole work. She's amazing!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek.

"Young Kirk, your refusal to kill Khan resulted in the deaths of thousands of innocent people, civilians and members of Starfleet alike." Prince Lequa's silken voice swept over Nyota. The surrounding beauty of the prince's home mesmerized her, as did the tones of each of the Re'an, but she couldn't ignore the demoralizing accusation directed at the captain. She stiffened. "How can we, as a primitive society, be expected to trust your Starfleet...your Federation...if one man can cause such irrevocable harm?

Nyota delicately raised the goblet to her lips, curving her fingers around the glass and fighting the urge to scramble over to the captain and insert herself in front of enemy fire. The Re'an were old friends of the Federation? Hardly. She swallowed, the liquid burning as it slid down her throat. Kirk's jaw clenched as he undoubtedly fought the urge to defend himself and Starfleet.

The Enterprise crew had stumbled upon their current mission as they were already in deep space, three months into their five-year exploration of the unknown. The Re'an, a race distinguishable by their six and a half foot slender forms, blue skin tones, broad foreheads, and voluminous peach-colored eyes, disappeared nearly twenty years ago. The Enterprise had come upon them less than seven days earlier. Now, Kirk was to promote the standard of peace that they had always shared between themselves and these indigenous beings of Beta Re'an IV before they disappeared. She'd heard Prince Lequa's frank observation, of course. As hurtful as that was to hear, it was McCoy's failure to show support of the captain which cut to the quick. McCoy knew more than most how stressful it was for Kirk to reply to such a deviously played comment.

McCoy's eyes fixated on the prince or the guards and never once strayed to his best friend in his usual emotional support. In fact, his body shifted away from Kirk. It was the faintest of change in mannerisms and one a capable linguist could detect blindfolded.

"Sir, with all due respect, I believe the root of the problem does not lie entirely with the decisions I made as captain at that time. They exposed cracks and flaws within our system that are being rectified to the best of our ability as we speak."

"There are cracks, and there are deep fissures which have no way to be mended."

"It was the evil doing of men, Prince Lequa. A false sense of hierarchy that many peoples face across the galaxy when leaders become hungry for power to protect themselves at any cost."

"Ah, men," the prince smiled. "Now we get to my point."

Kirk's eyes narrowed. "Please, continue."

"Our understanding is that men - your human comrades - are capable of great things as well as the worst of things. It saddens my heart to see such an imbalance in your world." The prince paused. "Here, my people learned long ago that evil gives us nothing."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"Our people are too strong for it to exist. It cannot have any power over us whatsoever. Thus, it simply vanished."

Kirk smiled. "We, as humans, have learned more about ourselves by fighting for good and overcoming evil. It compels us to endure, to have compassion."

"We do not need to learn such virtues."

"And humility, Prince Lequa?"

"You are quick, Captain Kirk."

"Evil may have soiled our history, but overcoming it gives us promise for the future."

"Promise?"

"Hope," Kirk said quietly.

"Do you know of such a history? Do you have a history like this, young Kirk?"

"I am an Iowa born, Starfleet captain who will always stand partly in the shadow of my father."

"So you had a taste?"

"Not as much as some," Kirk exhaled a breath. "I lost my father by the hands of a madman the very day I was born. He saved hundreds because of his sacrifice."

"Very tragic, indeed."

"That loss has given me that which I aspire to. The greatness that was in my father."

McCoy made a faint noise in his throat. Did he disagree? Why would he do such a thing? Nyota looked discretely at Spock, who watched McCoy with detached concern.

"That is admirable, Young Kirk," the prince stated.

Kirk's face tightened, his eyes reflecting a hard glint. "I know my past actions may be considered as...brash. Since then, I have learned. Those lessons I do not take for granted."

The prince's children entered and clambered around their parents, disrupting the conversation. Their faces exhibited the joy their people were known for as they were greeted with the same enthusiasm by their parents. The banquet was over. Kirk bowed to the prince and excused those under his command from the table. Nyota, along with Kirk, elected to stay in the hall to converse with the people who intrigued them so. She felt a special bond with Kirk for this mission. They'd had poured laboriously over everything she knew regarding the Re'an and their communication habits. Kirk not only did that, but he also spent the rest of his preciously spare time at the site where they'd stumbled across a buried weapon. The weapon, of course, caught the attention of Dr. Marcus and Kirk's presence at the site has buffered relations between the team and the ever-curious Re'an.

Kirk's eyes sought McCoy's as the doctor stood from his seat but McCoy strolled from the hall without a single word. A frown flickered across the captain's face. His gaze brushed past the demanding Re'an children to the disappearing form of the doctor. Kirk's eyes still held that undeniable edge and his posture was no different. Whatever emotion Kirk felt, he now held at bay with a perfected control.

Kirk's glance flickered back to the small, bald-headed boy who proudly displayed his domesticated snake across his white cloak. Uhura crowded beside them both, curious now that she saw the boy looked and dressed so much like his father, the prince.

"Captain, are you alright?" She asked in a discreet, soft voice.

"I'm fine." The tick of Kirk's jaw told her otherwise. His smile tight, he held the snake in his hands, allowing it to coil around his wrist and up his forearm.

"That wasn't your usual peace keeping conversation."

"No," Kirk exhaled slowly. "It was not."

"Are you still coming over tonight?" She asked, thinking the question would help relax Kirk. He stared blankly at her. The snake stretched its body, claiming every inch of Kirk's shoulders with a lazy drape. "You, McCoy, Christine, Carol...to our quarters?"

"I...am afraid I won't be able to make it." His face had almost settled into his practiced captain expression when he seemed to think better of it. His smile filled with tenderness he'd showed her more regularly the past year. The past week, however, the brotherly affection had dwindled to almost nothing. "But you all have fun, alright?"

"Very well, Captain." She considered him silently as he interacted with the boy and his snake. The snake was as charmed as the accompanying child, the captain equally charmed. Kirk reluctantly handed the snake back to the child when it was time to board the Enterprise. As the snake uncoiled from his arm, the child's father sauntered over.

Prince Lequa patted the snake's head. "It has been a delightful visit with your crew."

"It has been too long since our Federation had the honor of your company."

"The displacement of our home is not your doing. But now that you have found us, I hope you will find reason enough to return." The prince's lips curled up in a smile. He extended his arm to the snake. Its tongue darted out, seeking to taste the proffered skin and slithering over to the prince once it determined the owner. "Perhaps seeing how we live will inspire you, as well. This indigenous snake has more intelligence than your earth reptiles. It knows I am its master even before I speak. It will not harm me - or my child."

"Or the captain, father." The boy smiled.

"Indeed, living as connected as you do with the creatures around you is truly remarkable," stated Kirk. "This snake also has a gift, as do the beasts here."

Kirk glanced at Nyota and raised an eyebrow. "I'm all ears."

"It will only coil around those stronger than themselves. My boy is strong in spirit. We all are. It's inborn, not that we have suffered. But, you, Captain Kirk, have experienced more tragedy than the death of your father or even that of last year."

Kirk gave a small but honest smile. "Once again, the depth of this world amazes me."

"Will you tell us, Captain Kirk? About that tragedy?"

"I fear I cannot," he shook his head. "We are all entitled to secrets."

The prince's patronizing look settled distastefully with Nyota. "I will respect yours since you have respected ours."

The prince offered his hand, an uncharacteristic attempt to show favor towards them as humans. Kirk shook it after a brief hesitation. "Thank you."

"You are welcome, Captain Kirk." Prince Lequa presented his hand likewise to Nyota.

As they shook hands, he pressed his lips to her hand. She stiffened her spine at the faux pas. Under no circumstances was this type of physical contact allowed in the Re'an society except between lovers or spouses. Lequa was too intelligent not to realize he'd blurred the lines between their respective social rules.

 "Lieutenant, it's been a pleasure."

Kirk's decisive step towards Lequa caused the prince to directly release Nyota's hand. She breathed a sigh of relief, especially on Kirk's behalf, as they still parted cordially.

"That was inappropriate," Kirk muttered under his breath after they stepped outside of the royal home. "And did you see how he looked at you earlier? I'm tempted to-"

"No harm done," she said quickly. She bit her tongue, knowing full well that her husband was no longer as cool and collected as before. It was just as sweet that her captain was also protective. "Perhaps...he just forgot himself."

She returned her attention to her surroundings, especially the lush fields and formidable mountains sweeping over Re'an V. As Kirk had been equivocally entranced by the beauty when they arrived, Nyota frowned as Kirk now ignored it. He glanced directly at those already waiting - Spock, McCoy, and three security officers. Kirk's eyes returned to McCoy as he requested to beam aboard the Enterprise. McCoy offered nothing to acknowledge the captain. If she'd blinked, she'd never caught the glimpse of the hurt McCoy had inflicted upon Kirk.

Nyota's stomach clenched. It was an expression she'd seen on the captain only once. And although it devastated her to think of Kirk's emotional distress on the day Kirk first visited Admiral Pike's grave, she allowed herself the memory.

This pain was real. It wasn't anything passing. It was a haunting distress, deeply rooted.

What the hell was going on between the captain and McCoy?

_I will find out, Nyota._

Hearing her mate's calm reassurance eased her worries slightly, but she still felt compelled to track Kirk's movements as he stepped off the transporter platform upon their return to the ship. Spock, too, warily observed the captain as they followed him to the bridge. There was a slight droop to Kirk's shoulders and a hitch in his step which had not been there before they beamed down to the planet. Then she remembered. Her skin chilled as the image of the snake curling around Kirk's body crept to the forefront of her mind.

What did he mean, another tragedy? 

"Lieutenant Uhura, open a shipwide channel." Kirk picked up his PADD as he settled in his chair and sighed.

"Yes, sir." Nyota shook the thought from her mind.

"Captain?" Spock arched an eyebrow.

"Prince Lequa permitted our archaeologists more time at the site. It's good news for Dr. Marcus, who is hoping that a missing piece to the missile is found." Kirk paused, looking over his shoulder at the First Officer. "We're staying another day."


	2. Chapter 2

Jim peeled off his gold shirt in the corridors, not waiting for the door to open before he began to unwind from the day. With slow steps, he made his way into his quarters. He rumpled his shirt in his fist and sagged against the door after it closed. Satisfaction filled him as he pondered the conversation at the banquet table with Prince Lequa.

He had begun his preparations for peace talks as soon as it became evident that the Enterprise had miraculously stumbled upon the missing civilization. Admiral Pike would hardly have recognized him as he read every single documented conversation with their people, reviewed with Uhura their various ways of communication, and discussed with his command team the multitude of ways the talks could fluctuate. Uhura's research especially fascinated him as she tutored him on the non-verbal ways they conversed amongst themselves using hair styles and animal wearing. He and the crew had been as prepared as they could have been.

Jim, as well as the rest of his crew, were quite intrigued with the Re'an. The away team discovered a surprisingly advanced but ancient weapon the first day on Beta Re'An IV. The missile, similar to a Terran model used during the 22nd century, alluded to a greater sophistication than the Re'an claimed. Since the Re'an are newer inhabitants of their present planet, Prince Lequa gave Dr. Marcus permission to investigate the missile to ensure their civilization was, indeed, free of anything that would promote violence. Archaeologists had yet to find a missing piece to the weapon, but with the additional time they were allowed, it looked hopeful.

Decades of research had gone into producing the body of knowledge Jim had reviewed. Previous contact had revealed them to be a peaceful, but reserved species within the Frederation. Only a century ago did they discover the Re'an were telepathic, but thoughts transferred only between members of their own race. Happy and ready to speak their mind, as was evidenced by Prince Lequa at the banquet, but never exhibiting any tendency towards violence. Approximately twenty years earlier, their entire civilization had suddenly disappeared from their native, Federation planet and not a trace of them could been found...until one week ago when Uhura intercepted communication from them. The Enterprise traced the communication to this remote planet and waited in observation until Jim received word that they could proceed.

After preparing a drink, Jim elected to sit on the couch, still mulling over the day's conversations. Somehow, he'd managed to keep the peace despite the accusation at the dinner table. He had abided by the rules. He was proud of himself for that. Following the rules felt good. Bones' subtle hints that Jim was losing a battle with his past did not.

Jim clenched his jaw and stared into his glass. Bones' conduct at the banquet table stung. It more than stung. The doctor's lack of support was like a powerful punch to his gut during the verbal onslaught at the table.

Bones' attitude was evident in the doctor's constant needling and nagging. All of which aggravated Jim and made him feel helpless, a feeling he most definitely detested. The past was history. He didn't want to dwell on it, so why did Bones? Nightmares and food sensitivities were old news. He had dealt with them before and even though he still dealt with them, he had them under control. Kodos and the events on Tarsus were done and gone. The Enterprise was his world now and Jim was too consumed with his captaincy. He would not allow his past to get in the way. He would not fail. Bones was overly worried.

Jim didn't understand his friend right now - and he didn't want to, not when he was securing approval from the admirals and receiving praise from his crew.

Go to Uhura and Spock's tonight? Jim snorted and swallowed back a quick drink.

He'd rather be poked in both of his eyes by one of Sulu's swords then be around Bones and two attractive, single women for an entire evening.

_"Spock to Captain Kirk."_

"Yes, Spock."

_"Captain, if you are not presently otherwise occupied I desire to speak with you. Perhaps we can meet in your quarters."_

"I thought..." Jim hesitated. "Did Nyota cancel because of me?"

_"She thought it would be best."_

"I see. Well, no, I am not busy, Spock." He fought back a groan, knowing what was coming. "Come on over."

Jim hoped Spock wouldn't ask him about earlier, but it was inevitable. Uhura's eyes had missed nothing. And her ears? Jim had yet to come up with a reasonable answer for the so-called "other tragedy."

_"Very well."_

Within five minutes, the Vulcan was sitting across from him and playing chess.

"Why didn't you just say you wanted to play a game?" Jim grinned.

Spock arched an eyebrow in response but never broke his concentration. He decisively placed his piece and clasped his hands. "I did not know what your disposition would be after today."

"My disposition?" Jim cracked a wry grin. "Don't you mean...if I would be bent out of shape?"

"Perhaps."

"Uhura noticed, didn't she? How are you by the way?" Jim frowned, thinking of the questionable behavior of Prince Lequa. Tomorrow, Jim would only stay on Re'an for a short time to allow Spock the freedom of accompanying Uhura and warding off any other advances.

"As she said, no harm done. Peace must be kept." Spock tilted his head. "I believe it to be quite telling that her observation of you is equal to that of her."

"She's Uhura, you know," Jim said quietly. "She's..."

He paused, fiddling with a chess piece in between his thumb and forefinger. Trying to find a word or phrase to describe his relationship with Nyota was difficult. Not a single one sufficed. But he'd try.

"...like a sister." Jim raised an eyebrow at Spock, not in the least embarrassed by his lack of eloquence. "Now, don't go telling her I said that. My image, you know."

"I would not dare say anything would negatively impact your notoriety among your crew."

Jim chuckled and stretched back on the couch. "Did she tell you to come talk to me?"

"No, Jim."

Jim blinked, not quite expecting that. "You're here on your own?"

"Yes."

"That's...nice." Jim furrowed his brow. One friend ditches him, another surprises the hell out of him. Nyota and Spock were newly married. Jim shifted in his seat, contemplating how he significantly lowered his expectations for time with Spock ever since that union. Sitting close to Spock as he was now, the void in Jim's heart felt more painful than ever. The loss swelled with every day that passed without the usual friendship of his first officer, but the thought of causing problems for the couple with his needs pained him almost as much. So he stayed away. The fact that Spock was attuned to Jim's needs meant more than he could ever tell the Vulcan.

"Spock, thank you."

"Are you well, Jim? Dr. McCoy-"

Jim jumped to his feet. Although he'd expressed his gratitude towards Spock, he couldn't explain much. "I am perfectly fine. Not a scratch, actually."

He hesitated, wanting Spock to understand he wasn't pushing him away but he could not discuss his situation with Bones.

"But about Dr. McCoy...please don't go there, Spock."

"Jim, you are my captain. You are my friend. You are a man I hold in highest regard. If a conflict arises between you and your physician - your chief medical officer - it is my duty as your friend and First Officer to rectify the problem."

"Nothing. There's nothing."

"Jim."

"Please, don't be intrusive like everyone else has been today," he said tightly. "It won't help me, Spock. It won't help...at all."

"I apologize."

Jim nodded curtly, but couldn't force himself to sit back down. In truth, playing a game of chess was the now last thing he wished to do. Not only had Bones left him in the dust, his Tarsus past almost broke the surface. Feeling ill, Jim could only fixate on the chess board. Spock's eyes were upon him while Jim fought to pull himself together. But as his insecurities mounted, he wanted to escape them, to sleep off the stress. He'd lost track of when the last time he'd actually had slept well.

He missed his academy days when he could enjoy a night of reckless behavior with his best friend and emerge refreshed and invigorated - minus any hangover. Even a night off with the three of them - Bones, Spock, Jim- as they used to up until...until when? Exactly when had his support team crumbled? When Spock married Nyota? When had he finally noticed his support had disappeared? When Bones began nagging him constantly, causing Jim to retaliate by acting like a jerk? And why? Did he really think he could salvage his reputation by ignoring the increasing signs?

He could barely admit it to himself but he was scared that his past was catching up to him. In the mornings, faces of days gone by haunted him. He could eventually shrug them off, but it took a profuse amount of coffee and meditation. Sometimes the mental strain almost pushed him over the edge. Maybe it was even why he hesitated to cross the line with rules like he used to.

Before leaving on this mission he was sure he could handle everything the universe threw at him. But now, now he was unsure. When Bones mentioned a few days ago that he wanted to ask Dr. Marcus on a date, Jim almost flew off the handle. Just when Jim himself had thought that she might be one he could have a chance-

Jim sighed, rubbing his face and feeling like a complete and utter failure. He'd been incredibly crass to Bones. Jim realized how petty his behavior was, but he'd kept up the act so he wouldn't have to discuss his sleeping habits and nightmares and whatever else Bones wanted to bombard him with. When it came down to it, Jim would gladly step aside despite the fact that it hurt.

A faint look of disappointment crossed Spock's face as the length of silence grew. The Vulcan stood and turned to leave.

Jim flushed. "Wait. Just...Spock. Stay."

"Jim, I do not want to do you a disservice by extending my friendship tonight."

"Spock, you misunderstand. You do me a great honor by staying."

Jim offered a small smile. Seeing that Spock still hesitated to return to his seat, Jim decided to take an additional, al beit small, step.

"Actually, I do need that hand of friendship tonight, more than I have in a long time. I realize I've been...distracted."

"If you are certain, Captain."

He thought he was but as they returned to the game, his concentration folded. Jim grimaced and crossed his arms. He saw no move on the board that would extract him from his increasingly precarious and untenable position.


	3. Chapter 3

Sheets heaped in a tangle on the floor beside him, Jim lay wide awake and stared at the celing, just as he had for more than two hours. Reverberations of Prince Lequa's stinging allegation swirled through his mind, mixed with visions of people and events that were at one time long gone. A wry grin crossed his lips. He was at least fortunate that Bones had not heard that part of the conversation. Who knew how the doctor would have reacted - or what he would have confronted Jim about this time. Crossing his arms behind his head, Jim breathed a lonely sigh into the comfort of his bed. The prince's disturbing allegation, McCoy's insistent nagging, and Spock's absence were adding up to more than he could bear.

Swallowing deeply, Jim made a difficult observation about himself. He missed Spock's company so much he almost begged him to stay longer. Distracted and worried, Jim had assumed he'd be no match for the Vulcan genius. Their game had been quite enjoyable and surprisingly their camaraderie as strong as ever. Even so, despite Spock staying later than Jim expected, he knew it still wasn't enough. Jim tucked away in his memory every minute he'd spent with his first officer.

But every memory of those precious minutes wouldn't compensate for the overwhelming sense of abandonment he had experienced of late. Jim blinked away the emotion behind his eyes as Bones came to his mind. Desperately, he wracked his brain for a distraction. 

Lonely and cold in his boxers, bed stripped bare of all blankets and comforts, Jim turned on his side, still thinking. Most nights he lay awake sweating or awoke lathered in his perspiration but tonight he had overcompensated. Since sleep eluded him, he might as well be productive. He hoisted himself out of bed and grabbed a black t-shirt and casual black pants, opting to dress as if he wasn't returning to bed. He paced by the door in his bare feet, hands in his pockets and revisiting an idea. A worn image pictured on the surface of the missile baffled everyone, but was distrubingly incomplete without that mysterious missing piece.

Insomnia did have its benefits, he thought ruefully, as he considered that the image could be one of the indigenous creatures of this planet. The snake he held after the banquet had truly been impressive. If the Re'an, the contemporary inhabitants, honored these enigmatic creatures, it was certainly possible that previous inhabitants did so also. It also wouldn't be the first time images of that sort were discovered on ancient weapons.

Spending much of his time with Uhura this week gave him a fresh appreciation for aspects of exploration he'd not experienced for himself until now. Giving himself a mental kick, Jim began forumulating a plan of action. First he wanted to further investigate those indigenous creatures, studying the body of knowledge on how they moved and how wearing them fostered communication. Next, he would compare the results with the other teams' research. Maybe then he would be able to deduce what the image was even without that missing piece. Not knowing what that image aggravated Jim. He would toss the idea out to his chief archaeologist tomorrow, but for tonight, he wanted a head start.

He started to make his way towards his desk, but halted in his tracks.

This was so far from his usual course of study, it astonished even him. What was he doing? Did he really want to know more about creatures with mysterious gifts, especially the snake? He had no idea what this study would reveal, no insight into the questions his crew would ask him if they knew why the snake coiled around his arm. If Uhura placed that particular piece of information in her notes...Jim inhaled sharply. He hadn't even asked her to refrain from doing so. How could he have forgotten?

Maybe his uneasiness was overrated. It perhaps didn't mean anything and he was chasing after...after a worthless idea. But if he wasn't discreet about his research and if Bones found out, who knew what can of worms he would open for himself.

Jim ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with his recent penchant for indecision. He headed towards his desk anyways. It didn't matter if he was trying to sleep - he tossed and turned in his mind, as well.

He picked up his PADD, clearing his mind as best he could. Before clicking on Uhura's most recent file, Jim saw a notification of his own from Yeoman Rand, timestamped five minutes earlier.

Jim frowned. Rand shouldn't be working now, but it was completely possible that she had informed him she was working the gamma shift. Was he so exhausted he could not even remember such a small detail? Sighing again, he opened his messages, finding only part of the information from the archaeology department. Another piece had been unearthed, but not the one they'd wanted to match the missile Dr. Marcus was researching. Still, Jim was intrigued but at the same time perplexed because there was no holo attached to themessage. He bit his lip, tapping his fingers on the PADD. If Rand was awake, she could help him.

He reached for his comm.

"Kirk to Rand." Jim rubbed his eyes. He hardly bothered his yeoman at such late - or, rather, early - hours. It was rare, and although he could very well take of these things himself, he was lonely.

 _Lonely?_ He frowned at his pathetic admittance. Despite the late hour, it was her duty so he commed her guilt-free. As before, his desire was to be productive, not languishing in his past.

 _"Yes, sir,"_ she said after a brief moment passed, breaking out in a fit of coughing.

"Yeoman Rand, are you sick?"

_"I am fine, Captain Kirk."_

"Your notification to me was missing a holo. If there is one available, I'd like to have a copy...tonight," he said quickly, thinking he needed something concrete in his hands to look over. "Also, holos of the snakes our ethologists have studied."

Rand waited a moment. She cleared her throat. _"Yes, sir."_

"Oh, and Rand." Jim grasped at straws, struggling to think of something else he could ask her to bring him. "I'd like a bottle of wine, nothing over the top. And...fudge brownies. With icing."

 _"Sir?"_ Her voice cracked. _"Brownies? Wine? At this hour?"_

It was an odd combination but he said the first two things that had come to his mind, something alcoholic so he could relax and actually review the findings. Clear head or not, it didn't matter. Neither did it matter that he was far from being hungry and thirsty. Jim clenched his jaw, almost growing ill with the very thought of food. The chocolate was an indulgence he rarely visited. Actually, as soon as the request for the brownies left his mouth he decided he'd give them to Rand. She liked brownies and he was bothering her and...Bones usually made those for Jim when he was depressed.

Maybe brownies wasn't the best idea.

"Rand," he articulated sternly. Sick or not, she'd no right to question him and he couldn't withdraw his request.

_"I apologize, sir."_

"Apology accepted. Kirk out."

While he waited, Jim's anxiety heightened. He paced, his agitation rising by the minute. When Rand finally rang his door he greeted her himself. Only...

She was not Rand.

She was not his yeoman. She wasn't even a yeoman.

The she standing before him was an Orion crewmember, one he'd chosen for her vast expertise in, coincidentally, xenozoology. In an understated but slightly off-shoulder black top and pants hugging her every curve, she glowed with the voluptuousness and sex appeal for which her species was known. Her face was within mere inches of his, and his eyes couldn't help but travel over every exquisite feature. _Gaila_. Jim took a sharp breath. Beautiful, vibrant Gaila who understood Jim almost as Bones had and who Jim had found irresistible during his years at the academy. She'd returned the affection, even going so far as to helping him overcome the nightmares when they increased in intensity.

"Captain, I am not Gaila."

He furrowed his brow.

"I see it in your eyes," she uttered softly. "I know you don't realize it, but I usually see it there. It's okay. I understand."

In fact, as Jim contemplated the similarities between Gaila and this crewman, he'd almost forgotten who she was. She was Gaila's cousin, Aleyah, older by four years. Quieter, but just as sensual. Actually...Jim cleared his throat. _More so._

"Dr. Jahnas, yes." He arched an eyebrow, trying to regain some authority. "How can I help you?"

"Please pardon the surprise, Captain." She cocked her head, the auburn ringlets cascading over her face and provocative display of her shoulders. Jim swallowed as the curls sprang about her collar bone, dancing like fingers caressing her skin. He forced his eyes upward and to what was at hand - moving Aleyah along before he put himself into a compromising situation.

Her lips curved upward, her eyes shifting over his own features in frank curiosity. Jim was all too aware of her sensuality and the fact that he'd avoided any prolonged, close proximity with her for good reason. It hadn't been a mistake to bring her on board, however. She was the best in her field and he - he hadn't touched a woman in over a year and had no plans to do so now in the near or even distant future. _No thanks to Bones._

 _Aleyah_. He repeated her name silently, but cursed himself for doing so. Somehow, he must remain detached.

"Yeoman Rand unfortunately felt quite ill after speaking to you and reported to sickbay for treatement," she continued in a smooth voice. Jim stared, transfixed by the inviting warmth in her eyes. "Finding me awake and informally working in the research lab, she requested that I bring this information to you. I have included my own research since it is pertinent. If I may say so, sir, you don't seem to be the type of man who stays up past two in the morning, comparing snake species."

He frowned. "The type of man..."

"But if you have changed your mind," she continued flawlessly, as she half turned away from him, "I can return later."

Indeed, she held the holos as well as the wine and a white box of what must be the iced, fudge brownies.

Sending Aleyah? This was not a good idea. What had Rand been thinking?

"Wait. Aleyah, by all means. Please...come in," he found himself saying.


	4. Chapter 4

Nyota perched on the bed, purposefully brushing her hair as she prepared for her morning shift. She had come to savor the quiet ritual of preparing for work together with Spock. However, on this particular morning, concern for Jim overshadowed the contentment she usually felt. The palpable tension between the captain and Dr. McCoy the previous evening unsettled her. She had been observing the growing chasm between the two friends for several days and now felt compelled to speak up and suggest her idea to Spock.

"I think you need to make more of an effort, Spock."

"Nyota, I believe you indicated my presence was pleasing to you."

"I can't lie. I do love our time together even more now." Nyota set down her hairbrush. She smiled at Spock sitting next to her. Thinking fondly about their indulgence in one another, she tucked her legs underneath her on the bed and then rested her chin on his shoulder. He turned his head towards her, allowing her to press her lips on his cheek with more care than usual for a hurried morning. "And I know you do."

"I cannot lie, either." He added nothing to the statement. She preened, seeing straight through her Vulcan mate's unflappable expression to his love for her.

"However," she added an edge to her voice, "I believe your relationship with your commanding officer should not suffer for my sake. He may need you even more after that horrendous goading."

"Nyota," Spock reprimanded.

Anger laced her voice as she retorted. "I simply cannot trust anyone who posits such shocking accusations as that being did. Prince Lequa completely ignored the fact that Kirk died for his crew, that he thwarted numerous debacles. I believe he deliberately provoked the captain, but why?"

"I do not know the answer to the question, Nyota. I surmise that there is more going on here than we know. Nonetheless, the captain handled himself well," Spock commented. Nyota heard a touch of pride in his voice.

"Did he impress you?"

He'd impressed Nyota. In fact, she could not name one time that her confidence in Kirk had ever waned. He was especially grounded in the way he captained, which took her by surprise. What was unsettling, however, was the fact that she and Spock both witness he lacked the extraordinary passion that they so admired in him, the same enthusiasm they at one time had scorned.

"Indeed. Nyota, I saw in Jim a sense of caution as I visited him in his quarters. He was hesitant in accepting an act of friendship. It...gives me cause to worry."

"Do you think Kirk has suffered another so called tragedy?"

"My calculations are that yes, he has."

Her stomach swirled with dread at Spock's revelation. Spock was rarely wrong when it came to James Tiberious Kirk. He had just admitted that logic tells him that Jim has experienced more hardship than all he had confessed to them. How much could one man take? Shortly after meeting the captain she determined that his childhood had been difficult and cruel, quite possibly worse than one her wildest imagination could conjur. She could see no other reason why someone with his intelligence and conviction would turn to alcohol, women, and bar brawls as often as he did.

"I see that you are troubled, Nyota. Do not be. We will help our friend and captain." Spock delicately leaned his forehead against hers. She breathed deeply, finding serenity in his tender expression of love and comfort within a brief moment.

She kissed him before pulling away and slipping on her boots. Spock's shift began shortly and they both needed to prepare for the return to Re'an V. Feeling content after Spock's embrace she lazily turned her attention to the day ahead. Next she and Spock would head to the mess hall for a quick breakfast. The command team often met up there before beginning their shift together. The companionship of this time had decreased over the past few weeks largely because of the tension between Kirk and McCoy. Kirk would be on alpha shift today, meaning that he should also be eating around now. She fervently hoped that McCoy would not stand the captain up for their breakfast together yet again. It was a rather disconcerting, missing piece to the puzzle.

"What will you do?"

"I cannot press him. I will do as you suggest, Nyota."

It would be good for them both to stretch their wings again. It wasn't that they had become strangers to their friends, only a little less social.

"Nyota..."

"Yes, Spock." She already stood by the door waiting for him. Spock took his time to rise off the bed. Although he'd helped her a moment ago, now he appeared troubled, pensive and unwilling to leave their quarters.

"In what shall I suggest we engage?

"The same things you did before." Nyota cocked her head, curious that Spock's hesitancy seemed to be based upon this question. "Nothing has changed for the two of you, not really, has it?"

"I am unclear."

"I see." That was not what she wanted to hear. "What was different?"

"He did not exude the confidence I am accustomed to seeing from him."

Kirk? Not confident? The idea was absurd. You couldn't have one without the other. Nyota didn't have a reply. It took her aback. It was all she ever saw from Kirk, even if he was faced with defacing statements left and right. Yesterday, even after the tension between captain and doctor. His shoulders had slumped ever so slightly for a few minutes but then there was nothing about Kirk's demeanor on the bridge that revealed anything but confidence. The virtue came hand in hand with his control, didn't it? Nyota clearly observed this the day before.

"The captain's reaction to the prince's statement indicates that he has indeed endured more in his past than he has revealed to us. It appears that the past is currently quite troubling to him. I am further unaware of whether the captain has confided in Dr. McCoy. Whether he has or not, he expected the doctor's support. That is why I have every reason to believe I have done some part to create this problem. If I had been doing my job as First Officer-"

"You have been doing your job, Spock," she interrupted without a second thought. Spock's earnestness to be the best First Officer for Captain James T. Kirk had not suffered because of their union. He was there for Jim unfailingly during their shifts and whenever else a need for the ship arose. There had to be something else. "You can't blame yourself. And now that you have a better idea of how to help the captain, I know you will do all you can to fix the problem."

Spock looked softly at her, his expression notably humble. "Nyota, perhaps I have not been doing my job as friend."

 

* * *

 

McCoy trudged into sickbay for his alpha shift, ignoring the pointed look Christine gave him concerning his attire and his hair. It was a distinct just got out of bed fashion statement that was entirely true and he felt no shame.

"That's...interesting. Since when do you come to sickbay looking like that?"

"Figured I'd shower here," he mumbled, self-consciously running a hand through his rumpled hair and brushing imaginary lint off of his wrinkled uniform. Talk about sleepless nights. McCoy knew without a shadow of a doubt that Jim only slept maybe three, maybe four hours at best but last night, McCoy himself had slept for only two full hours. He didn't know how Jim managed to keep up with his full schedule.

Guilt ate at McCoy. He and Jim had never formally agreed to meet for breakfast and coffee, but he knew that the younger man had come to depend on it. Normally, McCoy could think of nowhere else he'd rather be. Skipping it this morning was unreasonable and downright rude of him. He wasn't even sure why he skipped. He hated treating Jim like a stranger, hated contributing to the hurt and animosity and to the distance between them. He genuinely wanted to talk with Jim, even more so after the disastrous conversation at the banquet, but Jim defensively shut down every attempt at conversation.

The tension was so high between them that he could scarcely function as the man's doctor. Something had to give - and soon. Their efforts at avoidance were becoming visible to the crew and interfering with ship's functions. They couldn't go about avoiding each other like this, but he'd taken the hint first from Jim himself that he needed space. Perhaps McCoy was overcompensating, but now...he wasn't sure what the hell he was supposed to do.

McCoy was worried. Every bone in his body screamed that Jim was heading towards a breakdown the likes the universe had never seen. If he couldn't figure out how to patch together their fragmented friendship, he might have to stand on the sidelines watch Jim self-destruct, his healer's hands tied behind his back and eyes blindfolded, helpless to save his best friend.

The warning signs were subtle, some of them minuscule, but they were there. Little things been piling up like a well-stocked armory for weeks. Jim never slept well and had often woken in a panic during their Academy days. It was obvious to McCoy that Jim wasn't sleeping like he should. McCoy suspected the nightmares had returned, but had no medical basis for questioning him until it affected his command. Jim's eating habits surely had degraded as well, but the weight loss was only minimal. Then there was the slightly bruised appearance under his eyes, accompanied by a faint, wild look in those same eyes early in the morning, and the other times he caught Jim blanking out. These were clear signs his best friend was distressed, haunted by a past that was trying harder than ever to sink its fingers into Jim's sanity.

McCoy saw the signs clearly, but he was unsure whether Jim was even aware of them himself. If he was aware, he probably thought he was coping, but it was far from the truth. McCoy feared Jim's trust in him had also plummeted. McCoy had once prided himself on being the stabilizing factor in Jim's life, but now the captain barely spoke to him, never confided in him that the past was creeping up to bite him in the ass. Jim no longer joked with him. He...he just...he wasn't Jim.

"Dr. McCoy?"

McCoy set down his PADD on his desk in his private office and turned around to face his most inquisitive, too-curious-for-her-own-good nurse. "Christine. Yes."

"It's Friday."

"Yes," McCoy rubbed his eyes but was unable to rid them of the grittiness of sleep.

"You're usually with the captain for break-"

"He's busy," McCoy grunted and picked up his PADD again. His mood soured even more upon seeing a message from his ex-wife Jocelyn. He knew exactly what she was bothering him with again and coupled with the situation with Jim, it was almost too much to take. He was tempted to pull out his whiskey and risk the consequences if the green-blooded hobgoblin caught him. "I'll see him later when he comes to receive his final inoculation for the Re'an virus this morning."

McCoy sighed. The virus was a tricky one, the danger lasting well beyond their final day on Re'an V. Of course, Jim just had to be more susceptible than the rest of the crew. Even the augment blood transfusion could not overcome the damage Tarsus did to his immune system.

"And you didn't seem to care that Uhura had to cancel last night." Christine frowned, continuing as if she'd not heard him at all. "Leonard, I've been meaning to ask you. Why did you say you wanted to ask Carol out the other day? You had to know Jim was thinking about it. I even knew that. He's been so different around women these past few months, it was hard to miss that longing in his eyes. Nyota and I call those eyes his puppy dog eyes."

"Why does it even matter?" McCoy argued. Yeah, egging Jim on like that hadn't been the best of ideas. He'd rubbed salt on a wound that would never, ever heal and at the worst possible time, too. In his defense, it had seemed like a good idea in the moment. Sensing that Jim was struggling with his demons, he purposely provoked him, hoping to give him a new purpose and direction. Get him thinking. Propel him to act. He had been Jim Kirk's friend for long enough to know that the man responded to challenge and hardship.

Jim was supposed to challenge him for the chance to date Carol. It had only been an attempt to get the man to see that he was ready to venture into a more permanent relationship. It was more obvious to him than anyone else that Jim shied away from serious relationships because he had only experienced broken ones. Unfortunately, McCoy's plan of proclaiming a false interest in Dr. Marcus had backfired and Jim's anger unleashed on McCoy instead. Furious at himself, McCoy turned his own negative emotions outward.

"Puppy dog eyes, Nurse Chapel? Of all the ridiculous things to say about our captain. You might as well call him a golden retriever and give him a leash and a collar."

"Stop avoiding the question, Dr. McCoy." Her eyes widened. "You did it on purpose, didn't you?"

"Now why would I do that?"

"Leonard, I can't believe you." She accused. "You _did_ do it on purpose."

"Why the hell would I?" McCoy scowled, angry about the hole he dug for himself.

"I don't know." Christine huffed. "Maybe to provoke him? It worked. He's provoked, at least it seems like it. The two of you never..."

"Never what?" McCoy growled.

He had no desire to hear her say what he had already admitted to himself. Truth was that Jim had been provoked before that, and it may be why it worked to provoke him so well about a woman. He and Jim had never allowed conflicts to get in the way of their friendship before. That Jim was reacting so violently and pulling away told McCoy that things were worse than he previously thought. Striking Jim when he was down was a recipe for disaster and he, Jim's best friend, had done just that.

Now that the damage was done, McCoy easily saw past Jim's act. Jim's behavior was a desperate front to avoid McCoy's questions and concern. He should have halted Jim right then and there - but he didn't. No doubt, he was the only one to stop this.

McCoy swallowed guiltily at the cruel part he was playing. He fervently hoped that Jim wouldn't make any rash decisions on his own since he now was shutting out McCoy almost completely. Things that had happened to Jim in the years gone past must be surfacing again at warp speed or he wouldn't be trying so hard to escape them. He was doing and using anything to avoid the inevitable. McCoy grieved as he realized that Jim was falling back into old patterns and coping mechanisms.

With a heart dragging along the floor, McCoy left his desk - and nosey Nurse Chapel - to hit the showers.

As bothered as McCoy was that Christine had noticed the burgeoning problem, he could answer Christine's question on his own.

The two of them never talked. The two of them never acted like they wanted to see each other. The two of them were at odds, broken in friendship. And, McCoy, for once in his career, didn't know how to fix things. If anything, he continuously erred as he reacted to almost anything Jim said or did without being able to stop himself.

He, the physician, the one who was supposed to heal, could only rub raw the festering wounds of his best friend.


	5. Chapter 5

_Jim raced down the deserted street, desperately searching for a place to hide. Heart thumping, he spotted an open door and crashed through. None too soon, for his quaking legs could no longer hold him and he collapsed. He breathed deeply and peered through the darkness. Jim made out a figure standing on the far side of the room and in recognizing the shape of the shoulders, he sighed in relief. "Bones!" As the doctor turned around, Jim looked at him in horror. Although it was his friend, the doctor's eyes were filled with malice. Even worse was the fact that he wasn't alone. Stringing along in a line behind the doctor were a parade of figures from Jim's past, some he recognized and others who were only vaguely familiar. Every one of them had eyes boring into his skull. Locking eyes with his worst nightmare, he opened his mouth to scream the governor's name. Instead, Jim found himself both voiceless and helpless._

Jim awoke with a start, eyes flying open and tumbling back to reality. His lungs sucked at the air with deep, aching breaths as he blinked rapidly at the encompassing darkness, but he found nothing that could calm his racing heart. The sweat-soaked, blanket twisted around him. It felt more like a shroud than a comfort, and his body refused to relax, burdened as it was by the lingering horrors of the night.

"Computer...what...is...the time," Jim rasped between breaths.

_"The time is zero six twenty-two, Captain."_

Jim groaned, eyes darting around the room as he lay anxious and waiting for a sense of normalcy to return to his mind and body. The morning had arrived far too soon. The vivid nightmare, added to Bones' cold shoulder the day before, had left him even more off balance and feeling as if his mind was burdened with iron shackles, another horrific reminder of Tarsus. Ever so slowly the faces of his nightmare began to fade and his eyes adjusted to the dim room. He frowned, realizing he'd fallen asleep on the couch. When his chest stopped heaving, he sat up with the blanket gathered at his waist and held his slightly aching head with one hand.

Still dressed from the night before, he stood and furrowed his brow once he stopped at his table. The note left there didn't register until he read it through the second time.

_Captain Kirk- I left shortly after you fell asleep and will finish the research you requested. I can talk with you at your convenience today. You looked cold so I placed the blanket on you before I returned to my quarters. -Dr. Jahnas._

He blamed his vague remembrance that Dr. Jahnas had even been in his quarters on the wine he'd consumed. She'd stayed until four-thirty in the morning according to the timestamp. He last recalled the time at roughly three or shortly after, but that was before he drank the wine. He did find relief remembering their time together had been completely professional, neither one of them crossing a line although they participated in their usual flirting.

Jim shook himself from his reverie and slumped in a chair at the table, head dropping into his hands as his body felt the effects of only two hours of sleep for far too many consecutive days.

He couldn't ask Bones for another sedative. He couldn't ask Bones for anything and if he found out that Dr. Jahnas had been here, Jim would be facing a severe lecture from the doctor- even if Bones would let him explain himself. He knew how dependent Jim had been upon Gaila, and if he wanted to be honest with himself...he'd been tempted by Aleyah but he'd held himself back with all that he had.

Bones wanted Jim to talk, and Jim wouldn't mind talking to Bones but they didn't want to talk about the same things. They were things best left alone, and wouldn't Jim know that more than anyone? The only choice Jim had was to suffer silently and persevere with grit and determination. Make those things invisible that Bones deduced were happening to Jim. With luck, the old haunts would eventually fade to a more manageable level.

One thing for certain was that he didn't appreciate being pushed into a corner. He would go down fighting.

Jim showered and threw on his blacks and command shirt. He skipped shaving, seeing that his body wouldn't cooperate and move quickly enough without his coffee and he was already behind schedule. He'd be dragging himself through the entire day and unfortunately, that wouldn't be ideal. His day was fuller than usual with his crew busier than ever because of this final day of their Re'an mission.

He wanted to bypass the mess hall, but his heart protested too much to do that to Bones. Maybe they'd sit in silence, and for Jim that would be enough. It had to be enough for both of them right now. Nothing was the same and Jim didn't know why, but he'd try. He'd try, and so he walked to the mess hall in good faith.

When Jim found the spot across his own regular seat empty, the little hope that he had left vanished like a falling star.

_Three weeks in a row._

He almost couldn't believe his friend's repeated absence. He blinked his eyes furiously, catching the emotion before it started. He blamed his restless night for the rare sensation. Another night, another nightmare, and entirely predictable. Worse yet, the visit to sickbay for a mandatory hypo was weighing heavily on his mind. Since Bones hadn't shown up here, how was Jim to act when he went to sickbay? It wasn't like he could skip this one. This inoculation was one of several necessary for him to keep from catching the Re'an V virus. He had to see Bones for another hypo, and one more crucial than the others.

To remain as level-headed as possible, Jim sorted through the facts, rethinking why his friend neglected to show. He would give Bones the benefit of a doubt. For one, he still cared for Jim's medical concerns. For another, when it got right down to it, there was nothing - besides confronting that his past was catching up to him- that Jim wouldn't do for Bones.

Nothing.

Jim strode towards the bridge and shrugged off the hurt as best he could. More than likely it was Jim's fault, anyway. Not Bones'.

He sighed. If she was well enough, he'd have Rand bring him his coffee on the bridge.

 

* * *

 

 

When McCoy came on the bridge two hours later, the over-caffeinated captain was hard to miss. Eyes wired, slightly jittery, fingers tapping, flitting from station to station, and a hovering first officer were instant signs that the captain had indulged a little too much.

 _Dammit, Jim._ McCoy scowled. In good conscience, McCoy couldn't give Jim the inoculation in this condition but he'd no other option. Even though he'd already commed Jim twice for a reminder, the man hadn't made his way to sickbay. McCoy had no choice but to come up to get him.

"Dr. McCoy," Jim said with a casual air, now leaning over Chekov's console and giving the doctor hardly a glance. "I was just coming to see you."

"Let's go, Jim," McCoy said quietly, controlling his temper and hoping they would not make a scene on the bridge. Jim certainly was not planning a visit to sickbay.

"Bones, just a minute." Jim frowned. He pointed to the screen. "There. See that fluctuation in the sensor readings? Will that be a problem when we leave tomorrow, Mr. Chekov?"

Chekov shook his head. "I do not know sir but I vill look into it."

"Jim," McCoy repeated.

"Thank you, Mr. Chekov. Spock," Jim began walking toward the lift. "You have the conn."

"Very well, Captain."

"Mr. Chekov," Jim added. "I would also like the new course charted by tomorrow."

"Aye, Keptin."

McCoy silently led the way back to the lift. Neither he nor Jim made any sort of sign they were aware of each other, although McCoy was all too aware of the man standing next to him. Jim crossed his arms, looking straight ahead but constantly shifting his stance and tapping his arms with his fingers. The captain was a bundle of nervous energy that McCoy did not want to take with him to sickbay.

_Damn coffee._

"You'll need to have some food, first." The doors slid open.

"Naw." Jim shook his head, getting a head start before McCoy out of the lift. "Just get it done and over with. I went to the mess hall for my breakfast. Did you?"

McCoy blinked. Jim usually didn't do passive aggressive. It hurt. "I..."

Jim clapped McCoy on the back as the doctor caught up to him outside of sickbay. "No big deal, right?"

McCoy stiffened, backing away. He didn't deserve Jim's touch, especially today. Jim's expression fell but McCoy didn't know how to explain without causing an avalanche of other problems.

"Bones?" Jim asked, confusedly. McCoy headed towards a more private area where he'd prepared Jim's hypo, heart thudding in his ears at Jim's pitiful and anguished voice. He heard Jim's heavy sigh and saw from the corner of his eye Jim hopping up onto the usual biobed he used. It was closest to nearly every workstation McCoy utilized.

He'd exactly what Jim needed to ensure he could give the inoculation within half an hour without Jim feeling too many side effects. As he took out the supplemental food and drink, his guilt rose. Jim would've been better prepared for this had McCoy done the right thing.

"Here," he said quietly, handing the food and drink to Jim.

"I don't need it. I had coffee," Jim said with a wave of his hand, as if coffee was the bandaid that fixed everything.

Jim's current condition was McCoy's fault. He had to fix it but didn't know if he had the patience. He didn't think he had the patience to deal with himself. He hardly had the patience dealing with his ex-wife and her recent, relentless desire for sole custody of Joanna, but he was fighting for his beloved daughter, nonetheless. Why couldn't he do the same for Jim? Of all the idiotic things for him to do. McCoy knew better.

McCoy expelled a heavy breath, too late in realizing that Jim's expression grew colder after the fact. Where the hell was his patience? Was he the surgeon who unfailingly spent hours in meticulous surgeries saving Jim's life or not? Was he the man who continuously pulled Jim out of a mental gutter or a man who folded under pressure? Was he the man whose vigilance revived a dead man or was he a physician too afraid to try again to save his best friend?

Seeing Jim in such a position devastated McCoy, overwhelming him with what the future could hold for the young captain. How could he get Jim to finally acknowledge the looming breakdown? Every part of him wanted to scream sense into his best friend. Not only that, but had Jim been cooperative, their friendship would not have suffered.

"I know that you didn't eat and you know better than to throw that coffee crap at me. So. Here. Eat. Drink."

"And be merry?" Jim mocked.

McCoy clenched his teeth. His thin veil of calmness threatened to tear apart as Jim shot sarcasm at him. "Stay on this bed. Right here, Jim, until I come back. Then, you will get that hypo."

"For how long? I'm busy. I have to meet with the away team and - "

"Half an hour," he said, irritated.

"Fine," Jim said shortly.

McCoy nodded and closed the curtain around Jim. It wasn't usually what he did with such a short visit so when Jim stopped him, clutching the curtain's edge with a stormy expression, he realized Jim took it the wrong way. Maybe even believing he didn't want to see him. Which, after what McCoy did to him this morning, McCoy couldn't fault him for thinking that way.

"Shall I find another bed, doctor?" Jim's face closed as he scooted off of the bed.

"Cut it out, Jim."

Jim ignored him and strolled nonchalantly, hand carressing each bed and taking his time until he chose a spot five beds down. "I'm sure I will be out of your way down here."

Christine, ever on alert when Jim came down these days, frowned at McCoy. He looked away, not wanting to see the patronizing expression on her face. Although it was Jim who was acting immaturely, McCoy's actions and words had provoked the behavior. McCoy had to admit he appreciated how protective the nurse had become when Jim needed it most.

McCoy almost choked as a fresh wave of desperation swelled up in his chest.

Jim needed protection from _him_.

"You're not in my way." McCoy swallowed, barely managing to keep his voice void of any negativity. "Just...sit still, alright?"

Guilt-ridden, McCoy didn't return to check on Jim until exactly twenty-five minutes later, and when he did, he found Jim asleep, with only half of his drink and food consumed. Leave it to Jim to fall asleep - or close to it - on so much coffee. McCoy had a hunch as to why he was so tired.

Food or not, it'd have to do. Jim needed that hypo before too much time passed. The alternative - allowing the captain's protection against the virus to greatly diminish - wasn't acceptable. He'd give Jim a med to alleviate the symptoms and it wasn't anything Jim hadn't dealt with before, McCoy rationalized to himself. Irritated that this was not going as planned, and irritated that the wretched planet required him to give the inoculation in the first place, McCoy took the supplements from Jim's loosely clenched fists and laid them aside. While Jim was not even lucid, McCoy stuck the hypo in his neck.

Jim immediately shot up, hand to his neck. Jim groaned, rubbing the spot where McCoy had unceremoniously stuck him with the hypo. "What's up with the damn hypos lately, Bones?"

"You shouldn't have jerked up like that."

"You should have warned me." Anger filled Jim's words. "That was even worse than usual."

"Jim, you'll need to increase your fluids intake by a good thirty-six ounces for the next twenty-four hours." McCoy paused, as Christine appeared once again out of nowhere. "Since you didn't eat sufficiently before the shot, Nurse Chapel will give you a med that will help with the nausea. It shouldn't be too bad. As we discussed before, you may experience some dizziness but it won't last long. Take the day nice and easy. Okay? I'll come check on ya later, Jim, before you head to Re'an V."

He'd be a terrible doctor if he didn't check on Jim several times today - especially about his liquid intake. But, right now he was just settling to be called a bad doctor. Admittedly. He and Jim had to talk.

"I wanted to eat what I should've before the shot. _This morning,_ " Jim gritted. "But I lost my appetite and then forgot when I was on the bridge."

McCoy pretended to study his PADD while Christine handed Jim two pills and a glass of water. Jim had every reason to be angry with him. If only he'd met Jim for breakfast as they'd planned...

"I'm sorry, Jim," McCoy said, barely looking up at the captain, the very reason for the heart-wrenching guilt he was feeling. "Listen. Later during your shift we can discuss why you're not sleeping."

"I'm sleeping just fine," Jim muttered after he chugged the pills down. He furiously attacked the sore area on his neck with his fingers.

"The nightmares, then." McCoy looked up then, going straight for it. Who knew when he'd have a chance to question Jim again. He held his breath, hoping for a miracle - for Jim to answer honestly. Christine's brow furrowed as she glanced back and forth between doctor and patient.

"Don't know what you're talking about." Jim said in a flat tone. He'd the look of innocence but McCoy refused to be fooled. How many times had he approached Jim about this the past few weeks only to be shut down?

"Jim-"

"Next time I come in, I'll be sure to use _this_ bed." Jim's bitterness dripped from each word. Christine stood beside Jim, taking over McCoy's job and giving Jim a hand as he slid off the bed. She steadied him but backed away after he shook his head at her. An apology was on the tip of McCoy's tongue but Jim was stalking out of sickbay before he could find the appropriate words. "I would hate to inconvenience you again."

"You better get this under control, Leonard," Christine said in a low voice after Jim disappeared from sight. "If you don't..."

McCoy finally let out his breath. "I will, Christine."

He had to. If he didn't, he'd never forgive himself.

Where had they gone wrong?


	6. Chapter 6

Bewildered by the way Bones had treated him in sickbay, Jim bypassed the bridge, striding directly towards the ready room. He had less than an hour before he would meet with Spock, Uhura, Carol, and Dr. Bellis, the head of the archeology department. Hopefully that would give him sufficient time to consume part of his water and ward off some of the physical discomfort he anticipated.

Jim fumed, pondering how his best friend, the most competent medical doctor he knew, deliberately reacted in frustration rather than considering Jim's well being. Jim regretted that he hadn't stood up for himself and called the doctor on it when he had the opportunity. If he had, however, his secrets would be hanging in precarious balance. A distinct feeling of confusion mixed with Jim's anger - why hadn't Bones at least waited until Jim had awakened?

He never intended to fall asleep, but he had every intention of eating what he needed. He did not enjoy suffering and he expected the dizziness and nausea Bones promised him would be more than what he could cope with now. Those two symptoms reminded him of the weeks and months sinking into a desperate hunger, eating whatever he could, his body weakening and failing. It was a reminder too close for comfort as those weeks and months were presently in hot pursuit of him.

Jim's fuming continued as he approached the opening doors of the ready room. Fortunately he was the first to arrive, for the first wave of dizziness passed over him at that moment, causing him to cling to the door frame in a desperate attempt to remain upright. Jim groaned and leaned his aching head against the wall. His parched throat reminded him that he had forgotten the water, the very thing he needed to suppress the vaccination's side effects before he beamed back down to Re'an V.

"Captain?" Spock's voice came from behind Jim.

"Yes, Mr. Spock." Jim forced his legs to move.

"You are thirty-eight point three minutes behind schedule."

Jim huffed an impatient sigh. "I know."

"If I may offer a suggestion?"

"By all means." He clung to the edge of the table and sagged into a chair, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead.

"You are unwell." Displeasure oozed from Spock's voice.

"The good doctor had to delay the last inoculation I needed for the return to Re'an V, causing me to run late. As usual, I am experiencing a few side effects which explains why I appear unwell to you." Jim explained more than he wanted to but right now his tongue felt loose and his fuzzy mind could not seem to control his speech. Neither could he leave out the sarcasm.

"I am aware of your predisposition to side effects, Captain. However, if they impede your ability as captain-"

"Spock, I'm fine. It'll pass."

"Captain-"

"I'm experiencing some dizziness," Jim replied, exasperated. "That's all. Hold on a minute, Spock. Kirk to Rand."

_"Yes, sir."_

"You sound better now, Rand." She hadn't this morning when he requested his coffee. She'd looked even worse. "Glad to hear it."

_"I am, sir. Thank you."_

"I need...water. A lot of drinking water. I'll be taking it with me to the planet so please tell the quartermaster to package it appropriately."

_"How much, captain?"_

"Forty... No. Fifty ounces. Please bring me a glass of water, as well. Kirk out." He would go above and beyond Bones' instructions today. Jim ignored the slightly bewildered look on the first officer's face. "Now, Spock, what were you saying?"

"Captain, if you are unable to accompany the team-"

"I'm fine. It doesn't last long. Never has. I only need a few minutes," Jim gritted as nausea began swirling in his stomach. It wasn't just a little as Bones had described. In fact, the pain gripping his stomach like a vise hadn't even been mentioned. What excuse could he give to send Spock from the room so he could pull himself together? "Just a minute, Spock. Kirk to Rand."

_"Yes, Captain."_

"Please bring my PADD along with that water. I left it on the bridge."

_"Yes, sir."_

Jim nearly cringed at the barely visible frown on Spock's face. He'd been too disoriented after the vaccination to realize he'd left the device behind and now that the room was swimming before his eyes, he was forced to ask for something that normally he'd retrieve on his own. Usually, he was quick on his feet. Now, thanks to Bones, he did not believe he'd even make it safely to the corridor.

"Spock, if you wish, you may question Dr. McCoy about the dizziness. Perhaps that would make you feel at ease with my departure today."

Spock arched an eyebrow, clearly not believing him. "Very well."

"Spock, please continue."

"I can cover your duties here if you would like to spend your remaining time at the site on Re'an V. I am aware that your presence there is beneficial to our peaceful relations with the Re'an. They do favor you."

"I thought it was only logical for you to accompany Uhura today." Jim intended to keep Spock close to Uhura so Prince Lequa could have no doubt as to the couple's relationship.

"That is unnecessary. You will be there, Captain, to ease her mind. Were I to remain on the Enterprise, I would be able to oversee the routine checkups in Engineering as well as perform your normal duties."

Jim rested his forehead on his hand. Spock's offer would help him "take it easy." He didn't want to aggravate his symptoms and end up feeling worse than he already was. But there had to be more behind Spock's reasoning.

"Why did you really change your mind?"

"I have realized you enjoy your time amongst the Re'an, Jim, and the time scheduled for today would not be sufficient for you. I want you to be...happy."

Hearing that almost made his day bearable. Jim fought a smile. "I appreciate that, Spock. I accept your offer."

"I assume that you will request Dr. McCoy's presence on the away team?"

Jim now had to force himself to smile at the obvious, inferred question: _Are you and the doctor getting along?_

He should want Bones there, especially if his symptoms got out of control, but the fact remained Bones had hurt Jim severely - again. Jim didn't know how to respond to Bones' actions, so he decided it would be best to ignore the entire incident. Jim rationalized that Bones would never do something like this again.

But maybe...maybe it was primarily Jim's fault. He knew he had to eat but then forgot in the rush of all he had to do on the bridge. Once in sickbay, he fell asleep without finishing the supplements. Again, that was his own fault. He had allowed himself to fall asleep. He was tired because he refused to ask Bones for a sedative - the very thing he needed to receive respite from his nightmares and restless sleep.

While this gave Bones more reason to interrogate him, Jim couldn't pin the blame completely on Bones and now he felt better about the entire situation. If it was his own fault, it meant that Bones still cared for him as a friend.

Jim breathed a sigh of relief. Things might not be perfect between them but he could live with the fact that their friendship was somewhat still intact.

However, there was the other unfortunate problem. Although it may somewhat still be intact, the floundering friendship with Bones caused Jim great discomfort. Jim had not planned to include McCoy on the away team but rather M'Benga. The decision was made before McCoy administered the mandatory last dose of the vaccination this morning and the unpleasant side effects set in.

Now that he had to request Bones on the away team, thanks to Spock's carefully placed question, Jim needed a distraction. Something - or someone - that would irk the doctor in general and buffer the tension between them by drawing attention off of Jim.

Despite the increasing discomfort in his stomach that Jim could no longer ignore, an easy smile finally formed on his lips. He knew of a perfect distraction. In fact, he knew of one that would kill two birds with one stone.

"Of course. I will ask Dr. Jahnas to join us, as well. Her expertise in xenozoology has been priceless."

 

* * *

 

_"Kirk to McCoy."_

Speak of the devil. Christine's eyes darted McCoy's way. She gave him that almost ever present look to tell him he should be embarrassed for his behavior. It was happening a lot lately. She stood next to McCoy, reviewing charts and leaving hints that he had to check on Jim, the sooner the better.

He knew. He only feared what he would find and his feet wouldn't move to fix the problem.

"Yes, Jim."

 _"Bones, I need...I need you to come with me to Re'an._ " McCoy's instincts kicked in as Jim's voice cracked with hesitancy. The captain's words lacked his usual professionalism, a sure sign that something was amiss.

"How are you feeling, Jim?"

The ominous pause told him exactly how Jim was feeling.

"Jim?"

_"Bones, just tell me if you can come with me."_

He didn't want to step one foot on that cursed planet that had already essentially undermined his relationship with Jim, but he couldn't dwell on that now. "Is it the nausea? Dizziness?"

Jim rough sigh scraped over the comm.

 _"Both. I feel like I'm starving to death, if you really wanna know, Bones,"_ Jim half-chuckled, but it was a humorless, bitter sound that echoed in McCoy's ears. _"This is great. Ah, just great. Bones, I feel like I just ate leather...and now..."_

McCoy felt his face leach of color. Sick to his own stomach, McCoy pressed a fist to his mouth.

He should be court-martialed for triggering such an physical reaction in Jim. Jim, who knew exactly how it was to eat leather or anything else he could get his hands on to try to survive.

"Leonard," Christine whispered. "Are you alright?"

He shook his head, unable to speak. Of all the things he could do...damn it to hell. McCoy pounded a fist on the desk.

"Captain, it's Nurse Chapel." Christine said, watching McCoy warily. His stomach recoiled thinking of Jim fighting this off alone. A CMO would be there helping his captain, but recent events proved that he was not helping at all and therefore was he last person who should try to help. If he had done his job as Chief Medical Officer, this would never have happened. Instead, he not only failed to stop it, he contributed to the problem. "There's a different anti-emetic we can try. It's stronger than the one I gave you earlier. I can prepare a hypo and bring it to you."

 _"That's fine."_ Jim's voice cracked.

"Where are you, Captain?"

_"The ready room. I sent Spock out. I can't...the nausea...pain...don't think I can move."_

"I'll bring you the anti-emetic, Jim," McCoy hoarsely replied. He squeezed his eyes shut. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

McCoy was putting Jim through hell. McCoy had crossed a line and then another. He couldn't properly amend what he'd done without creating more havoc for Jim. To do the right thing - McCoy should first approach Spock to admit he'd erred in treating the captain.

In doing so, Jim would have his head.

 _"No!"_ Jim's adamant reply choked McCoy.

"Jim, I'm-"

 _"Send...Chris,"_ Jim said faintly. _"Bones, clear your schedule and meet here in half an hour for the briefing."_

"Postpone it," McCoy said. He pushed aside the hurt that Jim didn't want him attending to his needs. What did he expect? A welcome with open arms after what he knowingly inflicted? McCoy eyes pricked with emotion as he struggled with the repercussions of his failure. What the hell was wrong with him? This was his best friend. He had an oath to uphold. He had Jim to take care of - his damn Captain.

_"Can't. Already behind, Bones. I'll...manage."_

"Jim, I'm sor-"

 _"Kirk out,"_ Jim snapped. The connection ended.

McCoy fought the urge to run from the room with his tail between his legs, especially upon seeing Christine's thunderous expression. "I'm not understanding all of this, but you need to apologize, Leonard. And pull yourself together once and for all. This is not like you."

"I tried to apologize." It was a weak, cowardly excuse. "Did you hear? He cut me off."

"Do you blame him? He's feeling extremely ill, Dr. McCoy. You handled this very poorly. Apologize officially."

"Trust me, Chris. Jim doesn't want me to go about this that way." However, Christine was right. To do this correctly, he'd have to inform Spock of the situation and face Jim's wrath for doing so. "I'll talk with him before we leave for Re'an."

"Leonard," Christine said, distrust heavy in her warning.

"I promise," he growled. "I'll bring you along with me to that damned planet if I have to."

Mortified, McCoy watched Christine scramble to prepare the hypo for Jim and dart out of sickbay. He waited with baited breath to hear from Christine but managed to remain busy and delegate his work. He finally heard that Jim, although he was improving, would require a second dose as soon as it was medically advisable. The nausea and pain had taken him by storm, but he was too stubborn to return to sickbay.

McCoy left sickbay as soon as he could forty minutes later, much later than he'd wished and cursing the emergency that delayed him. He didn't know what to expect when he entered the ready room, but from the corner of his eye he saw that for the time being Jim's tenacity had won. The captain appeared stalwart and unshakable, but McCoy knew better. Spock appeared to be well aware of Jim's ill health- he was but a hairs breadth away from him.

McCoy looked for a seat but it was standing room only. Uhura, Dr. Marcus, Dr. Jahnas, the head of the archaeology team, Dr. Bellis, and two other members were already seated. Even then, space was limited. McCoy's scowl deepened. He'd have to stand behind Dr. Jahnas- the last person in the entire universe with whom Jim should be in the same room. Not now, not with Jim's current state of mind.

He couldn't fault Jim for asking her to be on the away team. Aleyah's research on the behavior of Re'an's indigenous creatures intersected with Uhura's research on the Re'an and their use of animals in their communication.

But it was almost too much of a coincidence.

Jim's dependence upon Gaila for respite from his nightmares had been a problem for most of their relationship - up until Jim's obsession with the Kobayashi Maru, which swept in another problem all of its own. Aleyah's entrance was untimely, and McCoy vowed to do all he could to keep them apart on Re'an.

"Dr. McCoy, thank you for joining us."

Jim eyed him with a steady calm, his face revealing nothing except a captain's well-rehearsed control. However, McCoy had already taken inventory of the captain's symptoms - the faint sheen across his forehead, the clenched fists to hide the trembling of his hands, and the frequent swallowing. Jim tugged at his collar and cleared his throat.

"As I was saying, Dr. Bellis and his team located the missing piece of the missile. They will be working to carefully extract the piece from the site today. Meanwhile, Prince Lequa personally invited me this morning to share in a sacred ceremony involving a menagerie of animals our xenozoology team has studied these past few days. Dr. McCoy, Dr. Marcus, Lieutenant Uhura, and Dr. Jahnas, the invitation extends to you as well. Mr. Sulu will be joining us once we head to the transporter room. One more thing...although the Re'an are still reluctant to share...why..."

"Jim?" McCoy questioned softly as a faint grimace crossed over Jim's face and he closed his eyes. All eyes glued were glued on the Captain, Dr. Marcus and Spock looking the most concerned.

Jim expelled a slow breath, one hand purposely kneading his forehead

"Captain, I-"

"No," Jim interrupted Spock, waving his other hand in protest. He opened his eyes, jaw clenching and never glancing McCoy's way. "No. I'm fine."

Everything within McCoy told him to manhandle Jim down to sickbay. But everything wasn't enough for McCoy to even begin the urgent apology he should offer Jim. He kept still, in spite of the heated glare of the First Officer and his own concern for Jim. Calling even more attention to Jim's well-being during the briefing was the last thing McCoy wanted to do, with Jim's secrets clawing their way to the surface.

Jim breathed deeply and began again. "Although the Re'an are still reluctant to share why they disappeared twenty years ago, their relationship with the Federation, as it stands, is peaceful and cooperative. There appear to be no hard feelings between us or any unresolved issues. They are considering our offer to return and develop a new colony within their previous solar system but at this time, that is not confirmed. We want them to feel welcome to return," Jim paused and eyed each of the away team with a solemnity, except for McCoy. "As I've said before, we have been ordered to do everything we can to maintain peaceful relations with the Re'an, for they offer a culture of pure beauty and tranquility that has transcended time - and now, space. Do you have any questions?"

After a moment, McCoy listened only with feigned interest to the ensuing conversations of the away team because he finally understood. What he was doing wasn't keeping the peace until the time came that Jim would bend under pressure and ask for help. What he was doing wasn't helping Jim at all and it certainly wasn't doing himself any favors.

"Dr. McCoy?"

McCoy scowled at Spock for catching him unaware. He breathed a sigh of relief that at least the others were conversing amongst themselves or leaving now that the briefing was over.

"I would like to speak with you in sickbay." Spock paused. "Captain, you may join us as it pertains to your health."

"It's not necessary." Jim waved his hand.

"It is completely necessary, Jim." Spock walked to the door and stood expectantly, eyes now unreadable. "As your First Officer, it is my duty to ensure that you are at your best prior to beaming to the surface of Re'an. It is clear that you need further assistance from Dr. McCoy."

"Give me a minute, Mr. Spock," Jim sighed, his willingness to return to sickbay disconcerting and revealing the captain's ill health. "I'll meet you there."

"On the contrary. I shall wait outside to escort you, Captain."

Jim nodded faintly. "Alright."

"Jim, I'm-" McCoy didn't know where to begin his apology. "I'll be waiting in sickbay."

Jim stared at him, the blue frostiness of his eyes too much for McCoy. He trudged away from the captain, with the pivotal and sorrowing realization sinking deeper the sharp, wide blade that already had broken McCoy's own skin months ago when Jim's struggle had first begun. The blade touched an unreachable place, a place where he could not pull it out without doing irrevocable harm to himself. But did it matter? He deserved every bit of that pain. At the time Jim needed him most, McCoy reacted with selfish ambition, inevitably damaging his best friend and placing more distance between them.

Although his actions were nonsensical and absurd, to say the least, with faulty reasoning behind them, he finally understood. His daughter was already slipping through his fingers. Losing his best friend was more than he could handle.

It was painfully obvious to McCoy that Jim's past was catching up to him all too quickly. The captain's refusal to accept help only ignored and prolonged the inevitable anguish, and to protect himself, McCoy could only push him away well beyond arm's reach.

For if he pushed Jim completely away, McCoy would not be forced to endure the downward spiral of the man he loved as a brother and more than life itself.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting closer to the nitty gritty...still plenty of twists to come as the tension continues. I haven't gotten the hang of tagging this story yet - I don't want to spoil anything for you but I feel that the additional tags will help you speculate and look forward to more chapters. Also, please note that this story lacks any pairing other than Spock/Nyota. My endgame from the beginning has been a triumvirate-focused, deep friendship. It is not slash, nor is this a story based around a romance. I admit there is a tiny plot point that could hint things between Jim/Carol or Jim/Aleyah but it's just for the plot point. Thanks for reading! I'll try to update sooner to get us through the next few chapters more quickly.

Nyota lagged behind the two other women as they left the captain's ready room and headed towards a conference room where they could continue to work undisturbed. The captain requested more research before they returned to Re'an. Although time was limited, Nyota felt she needed a brief moment alone before working closely with Aleyah. Maybe she was overthinking the woman's inclusion on the away team but McCoy appeared troubled when he caught sight of Dr. Jahnas. The captain and his health were usually the root of the doctor's concern, and today seemed to be no exception. Gaila had often spoken about her cousin with a wary gleam in her eyes when it came to men. Gaila was less discrete when she spoke of Aleyah and Starfleet, informing Nyota that although her cousin was a genius in her field of study, her ambitions were selfish and boundless.

Dawdling, Nyota felt slightly guilty for abandoning Carol to the she-wolf character. However, she was also hungry and hoped Spock would have time to accompany her to the mess hall for a quick bite to eat. She turned around, decisively postponing her entrance into the conference room. Spock stood in the corridor, stance frozen near the door of the ready room and not noticing her approach. When she was but a few feet away, McCoy's voice drifted into the corridor. She frowned. She'd been sure the doctor had left when they did. He must have double-backed.

_"...you know it's time, Jim. Especially now-"_

_"Leave it alone, Bones. Please."_

_"I can't, Jimmy. If you're ill, and on top of that, remembering..."_

_"It's better left alone. You know that it is."_

_"You can't mean that, Jim."_

Spock's dark eyes clouded listening to the heated exchange between Kirk and McCoy. She withheld her inquiry as Spock's gaze flickered to her and then back to the open door where they both could make out the outline of the captain hunched over the table. She stepped forward, worried that Kirk would keel over at any second. Spock grabbed her arm.

"No, Nyota," he whispered calmly. Although she was perplexed that he was not interceding, she stopped. Her muscles coiled and she was unable to refrain from listening. He let go of her arm but she continued to worry. She held her breath, listening as Kirk's controlled, authoritative voice suddenly became something entirely ugly and unexpected.

 _"Bones, it was a long time ago!"_ Jim snapped. _"It has nothing to do with how I feel after your damn hypos."_

Nyota blinked, lurching back at the abrupt and harsh tone of the captain's voice. Spock caught her again and clutched her arms. A long time ago?

_"Unless you care to speak of something else, I would like to head to sickbay..."_

"Nyota," Spock said softly, staring down at her with a resolute expression. "I must stay to escort the captain."

She knew and had already pulled away from him. Even if regulations did not demand the First Officer's attention when the captain was incapacitated, Spock would not leave his friend's side. Not when he was hurting, and certainly not when he was reacting poorly to Dr. McCoy's ministrations.

"I know. I'll see you shortly."

She scurried away, tamping down the worry as much as she could as she made her way to the conference room, mess hall forgotten. Her thoughts slowly returned to the task at hand but the confrontation she'd overheard buzzed at the forefront like a persistent, blood-sucking mosquito.

"Lieutenant, are you alright?" Carol murmured after Nyota sat beside her.

"I'm fine." She flashed a forced smile, hoping neither Carol nor Aleyah noticed the difference. "We've work to do."

"Yes, we do," Dr. Jahnas stated. "Captain Kirk would like us to be especially attentive of the Re'an during the ceremony today and aware of...these."

Glad for a diversion from her anxiety, Nyota's eyes eagerly swept over the hard copies of drawings Dr. Jahnas handed her. They were small but detailed sketches of the specific Re'an creatures Nyota herself had researched. The Re'an used all types of creatures, but those resembling smaller, harmless Terran snakes were more common for use in communication. She just as hungrily read the ethologist's notes, wanting to know all she could behind the mannerisms of this intriguing race. They would help her immensely. And wouldn't Kirk be excited to see what Aleyah had accomplished? "When did you get all of this done?"

Dr. Jahnas' eyes widened in surprise. "Me? It wasn't just my work, Lieutenant."

Impressed, Nyota inspected each of the drawings. When she got to the bottom of the pile, she blinked in shock. She pulled the drawing from its place, lifting it up in disbelief. She stared for a moment. The intricacies in the creature's skin, the utter emotion portrayed...was outstanding. Outstanding - and mysterious and only magnifying the tension she'd witnessed minutes ago. Beside her, Dr. Marcus leaned in, her curiosity inevitably piqued as well. "When did the captain tell you about the snake he held?"

Aleyah's mouth curved upward. She took the sketch of the snake draped around Kirk from Nyota with a particular, drawn out nonchalance.

"Isn't that snake remarkable? When did he tell me? Last night. Or, should I say," Aleyah lowered her voice. "This morning."

"What?" Nyota exclaimed before she could stop herself. Of all the things for Kirk to do. Dr. Marcus' familiar control slipped as her face paled significantly. Nyota backpedaled. There had to be an explanation. Given Kirk's recent out of character behavior and Aleyah's relation to Gaila, Nyota could almost imagine him acting out of passion rather than with a sound mind and logic. But he'd been so different with women. Less assured, less forward or not forward at all. Surely he hadn't...

"You should see the look on both of your faces," Aleyah said, eyes dancing with amusement. "It wasn't like that at all."

Although Dr. Marcus' body visibly relaxed, her mouth tipped down in displeasure. "You don't mean that you and Captain Kirk were researching all night. The captain's schedule today is quite full. Too full for insufficient rest. And if he is unwell..."

Aleyah raised an eyebrow at Carol's resurfacing concern for Kirk's well-being, her lips drawing into a faint smirk. Nyota's anger stirred. Aleyah appeared absolutely delighted and no doubt had purposefully mentioned the extra details simply to annoy and bait Carol.

"Never fear, ladies. The captain managed to contribute quite a bit in the hour before he fell asleep with some wine in his belly. The man was simply exhausted and I didn't have the heart to disturb him. However, these drawings here..." Aleyah pulled three from the pile and laid them on the table. They were as good if not better than xenozoologist's sketches. "These are his. I didn't realize he was so skilled."

"Why is the snake wrapping around him? And so tightly?" Carol frowned, still focused on the other sketch. Nyota handed her the sketch in question. Carol's fingers followed the maze of coiling as the creature wrapped around Kirk's wrist and arm. "This is disturbing. Did this...the snake really coil itself around the captain?"

Aleyah hesitated. Nyota held her breath, unsure how the woman would reply. Had Kirk explained to her in full?

"It did and he described to me its movements exactly. Those movements are what we need to discern. It wasn't clear why the snake coiled itself around him, but he did know the snake wouldn't harm him."

"It recognized it was subordinate?" Carol's eyes would not stray from the image.

"It's more than that," Nyota offered, wanting to explain this clearly without revealing more than the captain would desire. Instinctively, she had realized yesterday she would have to leave out mention of the captain's alleged tragedy from any notes or conversation regarding these creatures. "It does recognize Captain Kirk as the more powerful being. But, Prince Lequa told us these creatures have a gift. They sense levels of great strength, and they sensed the captain's."

"A mark of property or territory, then, in a way, by way of an act of honor." Aleyah murmured, eyes bright and looking so much like Gaila. "Fascinating. The captain must know about this. The alien creatures I've come across often behave contrary to their Terran counterparts or differently altogether. It makes perfect sense that they would see Captain Kirk as part of their own territory within the Re'an civilization, especially if they sense that strength in him."

Nyota frowned, not liking the implication of such behavior. "It may be the way it expresses subordinance, as Dr. Marcus said."

"I'm not so sure. Technically, the Re'an of Beta Re'an IV didn't believe anyone or anything to be subordinate, and you can confirm my observation, Lieutenant, that they've carried that same belief to this planet. Even the royal family treats its subjects with great respect. They may be called 'masters' but there is a minute change in that very definition of master. Here, within the context of animals as a form of communication, it would most likely be an expression of honor - not subordinance, even if they are claiming him. They are claiming him as a being that is stronger and more powerful than themselves in a very definite, visible way. That, in turn, shows they do not necessarily feel they are completely subordinate - but respectful."

Nyota did not want to admit, but Aleyah was correct.

"Captain Kirk explained to me the same snake was worn along the shoulders of Prince Lequa's child. In doing so, I think the boy is showing his peers he is different among them. It makes him distinguishable from others. Most of the Re'an, it appears, can wear a smaller snake but those of the royal family include those of larger, varying sizes."

"That is a remarkable concept, but I..." Carol hesitated. With extra caution, she placed the drawing on the table and pushed it away with her fingertips. "I don't have a good feeling when I look at this, but then again...I have never been terribly fond of snakes."

"Thankfully, for the captain's sake, I appreciate them. I admit I had been so intrigued by the snake he described to me and inspired by the captain himself that, well..." Aleyah gave a small shrug. "This is what I worked on after he fell asleep and I returned to my quarters. It will benefit us greatly for our task today, Lieutenant, as we observe their ceremony. For this..."

Dr. Jahnas paused, pulling up magnification of a crude image on her PADD. "...is what Captain Kirk would like to decipher.

"That's on the missile." Dr. Marcus frowned. "Why is he interested in this?"

"He believes the image shown here is related to the very creature which coiled around his arm." She pointed to a particular area. "See...there...it could be an arm...and the more detailed part of the image greatly resembles the tail of a snake - or another scaled creature indigenous to Re'an. That is why we experimented with creating images ourselves, to see if anything matched. He wants to know what the image means, although I am not altogether clear why he is adamant we solve the mystery immediately."

Nyota inhaled sharply, mentally fitting pieces of the puzzle together. The prince's troubling reference to a "tragedy" and the snake winding around Kirk's body had instigated a chain of events. Ever since those events, the captain's health and demeanor had deteriorated. This insistence on answers made her suspect that he had connected the events with something in his past. And whatever that something was distressed him immensely.

But research aside, Nyota wanted to rush from the ready room and strangle Kirk. What had he been thinking? Allowing Aleyah in his quarters in the middle of the night? Carol's eyes flickered away from each of the sketches, a hint of hurt upon her pale face. Carol cared for Kirk, and Nyota suspected that the captain returned a small fraction of the affection, whether or not he knew it for himself.

"Please," Aleyah's smooth voice swelled and edged towards condescending. "Do not judge your captain so quickly, Nyota. He wasn't himself, I confess. I was concerned and left shortly after he fell asleep."

"He hasn't been lately." Carol's wounded expression faded as she spoke with an authority about Kirk's disposition. "Himself, I mean."

Nyota held her tongue. She again knew more than either of them: that their captain was struggling and even his best of friends weren't sure how to help him.

 

 

* * *

 

McCoy breathed a sigh of relief once Jim's heavy eyes closed and his breathing deepened. Without having to speak, he and Spock had both agreed that Jim could not return to the planet in his current condition. The captain needed sleep so badly that McCoy overrode his medical instincts and slipped a sedative into Jim's drink.

"I do not think he will be pleased with you, doctor." Spock clasped his hands behind his back.

"Once he awakens and realizes I slipped something in his drink and his schedule today was pushed back even more, all because he was getting his beauty rest?" McCoy deadpanned as he adjusted the pillow under his stubborn captain's head. Another side effect of the vaccination which McCoy had failed to anticipate was the pain levels Jim was currently experiencing. Jim barely managed walking on his own to sickbay and if it hadn't been for Spock's assistance he'd never had made it there in one piece. Jim had also refused to rest and this was the alternative McCoy had been left with. "Whatever gave you the impression that he would be upset?"

"While the captain recovers I will keep to his schedule. He will join us on Re'an V when he is better. I believe I should commend your swift action to address this situation. However, I do have an issue with your previous interaction with the captain. Were you unaware that the vaccine would cause the captain such great physical discomfort?"

Hearing Spock's unstated question made McCoy realize that Christine Chapel must have spoken to him sometime after bringing the captain his medication. She had stepped in as Jim's protector, surmising that McCoy should have been more attentive to Jim given his medical history. McCoy almost laughed, just to scoff at himself. What a mess of things he had made.

"If you are asking me if I intended to harm him, the answer is you are out of your Vulcan mind." McCoy scowled, knowing that he was deflecting. Truthfully, he could barely reply to the judgemental question as the horror of what he had allowed to happen continued to sink in deeply.

"I am not accusing you of that, Doctor. However, it has been brought to my attention that you perhaps did perform your duty in a hurried, unprofessional manner without informing your patient of the consequences or allowing the patient to prepare himself."

He couldn't deny Spock's claim and he had no excuse to give the Vulcan. "I understand what I did wrong, Spock."

"May I inquire as to why you did not attempt to avoid this situation?"

McCoy stood, momentarily tongue-tied. There was nothing he could say that would not eventually lead back to events in Jim's past, or at least hint of it and demand more answers than either he or Jim could give.

"Dr. McCoy, as First Officer of the Enterprise, I must inform you that I will find the answers I need. I have observed the increasing tension between you and the captain and have reason to suspect that your unprofessional behavior is related to that tension. Since the captain's return from Re'an, I have noted that this rift has widened. Furthermore, although you and he both deny that anything is amiss, I have observed multiple references to events in the captain's past. Each reference has been followed by a marked deterioration in your relationship. Logic dictates that the two are related and therefore I conclude that this...tragedy...is at the root of your issue. The presence of such tension between the captain and chief medical officer is distressing to me. However, logic fails to explain how the two men I most admire and who themselves profess to having a deep friendship can allow their interactions to degrade to this level. It is most illogical as well as disturbing."

McCoy swallowed. "I cannot explain this to you, Spock, because Jim is the one who should explain. I'm sorry."

"I see." Spock clasped his hands behind his back and walked over to Jim's bed. "In that case, I expect a detailed report of this incident. I also expect to witness a concise apology to Captain Kirk upon his awakening. Will he be sufficiently recovered once he awakens?"

McCoy nodded as he adjusted Jim's IV so that he would receive the fluids necessary during his sedation. "The side effects should be noticeably diminished when he awakens in six hours."

"If those side effects are not diminished, doctor, expect more than a mere reprimand from me, Dr. McCoy." If McCoy had any doubts of Spock's allegiance to his captain during the turbulent last few weeks, they were alleviated now. "I have an additional request."

"You would like the explanation for our behavior."

Spock didn't move a muscle save the elegantly, arched eyebrow.

"I can apply logic when I want to," McCoy said with a grunt. "I just can't explain this without speaking first to Jim - alone."

"I do not believe that to be wise."

"I guarantee that Jim will feel the way I do."

"I will not alter the plan of action that I wish to take to resolve this troubling manner. It must not continue. I will not allow it, for both of your sakes, Dr. McCoy, and for the sake of the crew."

"At any cost?" McCoy's mind swirled with the myriad of ways this could go, none of which would be comfortable for any of them, especially Jim. "You have no idea what you're getting into by forcing this, Spock."

"On the contrary, doctor. I completely understand that there will be considerable consequences - for us all."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bigger picture is slowly surfacing, and McCoy and Jim's flailing friendship will continue to be at the very heart of it. However, so will the Re'an. I am aware that McCoy may seem a bit OOC at times, but as we go along and go deeper into the story, reasons for that will become clear. Thank you SO much for reading and if you comment, I greatly appreciate that, too! One more thing. I must be honest and say this story really does have a completely different flavor than others that I have written in the past and I feel like I am going out on a limb every time I post. It's complex and emotional...and writing the early chapters of this story, especially, was somewhat daunting because of the McCoy and Jim tension. Anyway, I do hope you are enjoying it. Plenty more to come!

"You tricked me," Jim accused while rubbing the sleep from his eyes a mere four hours after McCoy knocked him out.

"I did what I should've done in the first place," McCoy muttered, displeased that the sedative hadn't kept Jim in his state of slumber longer.

The awakening captain didn't reply. McCoy's stomach clenched upon seeing his friend's distress, a blatant reminder of his own failure to treat Jim's medical issue fairly. Jim bent at the waist over the side of the bed. Ever the vigilant nurse, Christine was already there with a pan held under Jim's graying face.

"Bones, can I...can I at least go to my quarters to do this?" Jim's face twisted into a grimace as he remained hunched over the pan.

"I'm sorry, Jim, but I can't let you do that. Your electrolytes are way out of whack and I can't monitor you away from your quarters." McCoy infused his tone with as gentleness as he could. He'd not heard Jim request anything so pitifully and humbly in a long time. His chest tightened as Jim's words took him back before Tarsus began to haunt Jim again, to a time when his friend was transparent and open to receive the medical care and friendship McCoy had to offer.

He was torn watching Jim's violent reactions to the vaccination. Although it was customary for him to comfort Jim during such episodes, his heart remained too broken to aid his friend in such an intimate way. Christine's quiet ministrations to the captain only magnified the tension between the two men.

"Spock wants to speak with you. Soon."

"What?" Jim garbled out before he overcome by another onslaught of his sickness. A full minute passed before Jim finally collapsed back upon his pillow. Christine wiped the perspiration from his brow, but his jaw clenched and the fight returned in his eyes. "Why?"

McCoy crossed his arms, mind whirling as he thought of trying to have a conversation with a uptight, protective Vulcan and a captain who didn't want to talk. "Us. He heard some of our argument."

Another wave of emotion flooded Jim's cerulean eyes - including a rare glimpse of panic. Jim wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he blinked at them both.

"No. That can't happen." Jim pressed his lips into a firm line and shook his head, his stubbornness raising McCoy's irritation once again as Jim gritted his teeth and heaved himself to the edge of the bed. The movement pulled at the catheter in his hand. "I'm done here."

The double meaning of Jim's words was not lost on McCoy.

"Captain, you're not well," Christine gently reprimanded. As if her statement needed backing, Jim wavered as he sat and the nurse steadied him with her hand. McCoy stepped back, hoping that Christine's approach would convince him to think twice about wanting to leave sickbay. As soon as he increased the distance between them and saw Jim's minuscule flinch, he realized he'd erred once again.

"We've delayed our return to Re'an V long enough. I actually do feel better and will be on my way."

"Feel better, my ass," McCoy muttered under his breath, knowing full well Jim wasn't being truthful. "Jim, Spock and I discussed this and expected you to be knocked out for at least two more hours. He and the away team beamed down hours ago. The mission is out of your hands for the time being."

"So it appears," Jim mumbled, appearing unfazed by the information.

McCoy frowned, worried that Jim hadn't heard him correctly. "Jim, the away team left knowing you were in ill health. Maybe we should take the time now to discuss-

"The away team left. I know." McCoy strained to hear Jim's subdued voice. "You told me. But I feel fine now. I've felt worse and performed just fine on other missions. You have to let me go, Bones. It's...important. Crucial, actually."

"Crucial?" McCoy didn't like the sound of that. Nothing of the sort had been mentioned by Spock earlier. "Why?"

Jim's face closed. "I can't...it's nothing I can explain right now, Bones."

Keeping his expression as neutral as possible, McCoy returned to Jim's side, tricorder in hand. Jim's deflection had been expected but it sent a fresh wave of frustration through McCoy as he continued his work, careful not to lay a finger on the rigid muscles of the captain. As he suspected, Jim's body had been severely stressed by his lack of sleep and both the physical and psychological trauma he presently endured.

"You can't leave, yet, Jim. Your attending physician's orders."

"I have to be there, Bones. The nausea has subsided and...and the pain...most of it, anyways." Jim glanced in exasperation at the catheter barely remaining in its port and then the nurse who was reinserting it. Jim's fingers curled with tension.

"Captain," Christine said gently. "Please relax."

Jim furrowed his brow in concentration but his hand scarcely moved. "Bones, will you take this out? Please?"

"Christine will later." Jim's head jerked up, his eyes reflecting hurt at the nurse's name. McCoy chose to ignore Jim's pained expression at the realization that McCoy had delegated his medical care to Nurse Chapel. The distance gave McCoy the necessary clarity of mind while Jim was in sickbay. He needed that distance to properly care for the young captain, at least he assumed he did. The more he repeated the thought in his mind, the truer it became. "But not-"

_"Scott to McCoy."_

"Yes, Mr. Scott." McCoy almost groaned, at once sensing that this interruption would pertain to Jim since Scott had the conn. It was a most inconvenient distraction when all McCoy wanted to do was to apologize to Jim. Even more important, he needed to repair the damage he inflicted on Jim as his CMO. Only then could he even attempt to approach him about the other problems.

_"Has the captain awakened from his wee bit of extra sleep, doctor? I must speak with him. It cannae wait."_

"Mr. Scott, he is unable-"

To McCoy's chagrin, Jim interjected. His voice carried over McCoy's. "Yes, I am awake, Scotty. Go ahead."

 _"Sir, we just received word from Commander Spock. If you are able, Captain, the Commander has asked for y_ ou, _Dr. McCoy, and a security team to beam to Re'an directly. He said, and I quote, 'Lest the captain be dyin'.'"_ Scott paused. " _Between you and me, Captain, those words are unusual comin' from Mr. Spock, but we were cut off before I could ask for an explanation. But those were his exact words and I am under orders to inform the captain. Sir, the Re'an are being attacked by a few of their own. It dinnae make any sense. Ach, Captain, they are stealin' away with Prince Lequa's own lads and lasses as we speak."_

McCoy's heart sunk. Children's lives were at stake? Wasn't this supposed to be a planet without violence? Spock actually wanted Jim, well or not, to beam down to the planet in the thick of an attack? Nothing would confine Jim to sickbay now. And now, his clumsy attempt to address their conflict would be moot. If anything, the situation was bound to get worse, just like any other unresolved issue.

McCoy glanced sideways at Jim. Even hunched over and wavering, Jim held his body tautly. McCoy surmised that everything about Jim's current condition - and now this urgent mission - was reminding him of that grievous teenage year. McCoy's heart sank as he considered what lay ahead for them. Jim would insist on returning to the planet. Once again McCoy would accompany Jim to safeguard his health even as multiple stressors continued to pile upon the captain. Frowning at the monitor, he noted the readings which revealed Jim's pain level - and it was not what Jim claimed. Force of will would only carry Jim so far and he would require a hefty painkiller to simply walk out of sickbay without collapsing in a heap. McCoy had only one option and that one had minimally clouded Jim's thought processes in the past.

It would have to do. McCoy scowled. He detested that planet already but this raised his dislike to an entirely different level.

"Please inform the Commander that I am on my way," Jim replied, offering his hand to Christine. "As long as Dr. McCoy approves."

She glanced at McCoy with the unspoken question.

He nodded with regret and she removed the catheter. Jim slid off the biobed and promptly squeezed his eyes shut, knees buckling. Were it not for Christine's superb reflexes, Jim would have fallen.

McCoy fought to keep his hands from clenching as he prepared the hypo. If he touched Jim at all, it would be to strap him down to the biobed for his health and safety, Spock's wishes be damned. He wanted to reverse the damage he'd done to Jim- not aggravate it. But holding Jim in sickbay would be impossible given the circumstances, and McCoy allowed him to go. He anticipated that the dizziness would subside after a few moments of being upright and that it would not be an issue once they transported to the planet.

"What's that?" Jim looked warily at the hypo McCoy handed to Christine.

"Jim, it's what's going to allow you to walk out of this place. Or would you rather stumble to the ground in the pain you're in?" No doubt Jim was too shocked that McCoy was allowing him the drug to react to the pinch in his neck. The captain's eyes widened at McCoy. "Give yourself a minute before you head out, Jim. Take it slow."

"I'm good." Jim's sigh was long-suffering and his next utterance unsurprising to McCoy. "Damn wheat, Tars-"

 _"Christine."_ McCoy barked, his harshly spoken interruption occurring barely in time to provide enough distraction. Christine frowned. Jim's voice broke off but he didn't recognize his slip, so intent was he on regaining his footing. "Prepare another anti-emetic for me to take."

"I'll see you directly in the transporter room, Bones. We've no time to waste." The captain rubbed his hand with a wince. Stride deliberate and careful, Jim walked out of sickbay without a backwards glance at McCoy.

"I'll be right behind ya, Jim," was all McCoy could manage.

 

* * *

 

Down on the planet, Jim almost allowed himself to feel relief as he and the rescue team drew closer to the kidnappers. The small team had departed from the Enterprise mere minutes earlier with the intention of securing the release of Prince Lequa's children and capturing the renegade members of the Re'an. The vast palace with its array of rooms and intersecting corridors boggled the mind and complicated the mission, not to mention an indoor garden with just as many nooks and crannies. Outfitting the team with proper equipment and tools for every possible situation had delayed more than Jim liked. Upon hearing Jim's description of the palace layout and that it was on lockdown, the chief of security had added fire safety equipment at the last minute, further impeding his desire for an immediate beam down. Now, as smoke drifted from the direction of the royal garden, Jim made a mental note to commend him for such an intuitive decision. They were facing more than just a mere rescue attempt.

His steps slowed as he turned the corner and halted completely in his tracks as he observed the scene in front of him. Thick black vines curled, sculpting the arching doorway of a grand room that now loomed before Jim. He swallowed uncomfortably, fighting the urge to approach and open those heavy doors rather than following his security team as he ought to do. His direct orders had that team scrambling past him on their way towards the garden where the renegades and children were. A whisper of sound drifted from behind the doors and caught his interest. Jim held his breath, recalling what Prince Lequa had told him the day of the banquet. This must be the room which housed not only the Re'an's domesticated creatures but also others too wild to tame and far too priceless to lose.

Jim's legs and feet locked into place. Soon the Re'an birds and their high-pitched tones pierced Jim's ears. The crawling creatures mewed and moaned as they desperately scratched at the door, adding to the beckoning cacophony. Although he didn't hear them, he was aware that other creatures dwelled there as well. There were the snakes, the ones he instinctively knew would not hurt him but luxuriated in their home with elegant, and sometimes dangerous, coils. According to Prince Lequa, these creatures 'lived in harmony and peace' but their response gave Jim reason to believe that they clearly sensed something in their world was amiss.

Jim blinked, images of Re'an creatures blurring with the faces of frightened Re'an children in his mind. Recalling what he had learned about the palace layout, he remembered that an exit on the far side of the massive room housing the creatures lead to the enclosed garden itself. Crossing that room would bring them directly to the children's location. However, the creatures complicated Jim's plan. They were invariably sacred, not to be handled by outsiders unless presented with by a Re'an being. Although many of the creatures were formidable and some even poisonous, Jim felt no fear. The snakes had already shown that they would let him pass without harm. Surely the others would behave in the same manner, too.

He took a shallow breath. He had no reason to believe that the creatures would respect his crew. That meant that his best chance of success would be to forget protocol and the mission plan, and cautiously slip into the room by himself. It meant abandoning his crew, and if Jim failed, if his instincts were wrong, every crew member on Re'an V might not survive. If his instincts were correct, there would be no casualties at all with the possible exception of himself. Saving his crew and the innocent children would be worth the price. He groaned, confused as to why he even hesitated.

"Jim, what are you..."

McCoys' voice warbled in Jim's ears but another time and place enveloped his mind, a time and place where doctors did not exist and there was no comfort or aid. He entered the dry, tormented, and desolate world where the number of creatures alive were very few.

_They all screamed, both humans and animals alike, wild and ear-shattering screeches, just as those birds, and in a discordant symphony. But their cries were heard too late and by then the cries had become incessant murmurings. Jim scratched at his cell door, his fingers wearing themselves down, through skin to bone. He mumbled to himself name after name, with fingernails gone in his desperate effort to escape. His fingers continued to bleed and tear, just like his heart-_

"Jim! You need to put on your mask."

Jim jerked his head to his right as a hand grabbed his shoulder and manhandled him towards the racing figures of security. The air sucked their breath away even now. Fire had come upon them all suddenly. 

"You said this way, Jim..."

"No," Jim whispered as hands began to tug the mask over his face. For a few seconds he tried brushing the hands away. He wanted to stay.

"Dammit, Jim," the doctor's voice broke through. "Stop fighting me. You need this so you can breathe!"

Jim let his hands fall to his sides, frustrated as Bones fitted the mask over his face. As much as he appreciated the pure brute strength of the doctor, it wasn't the time for Bones to pull him along mercilessly. The doctor's fingers dug into his arms and easily overpowered him. Jim glanced back at the door leading to an alternate path, the Re'an one that drew him like water drew a parched and weary traveler wandering in an endless desert. Now even more reluctant, he dragged his feet but Bones persisted.

"NO? You have to stay with me, Jim. You have to lead them, as Prince Lequa informed you and you alone where the captors took the children and how to reach them. We need you, Captain." Bones' urgency tugged at his memory.

"I have get there before they do." Jim frowned, now recalling the prince's words once again. Lequa said these particular members of his species had been demented by their own poor choices. These choices, so very contrary to their culture's way of life, acted as a psychological poison and damaged their inability to suppress acts of violence. They were now reduced to using threats to survive rather than be exiled. And they now demanded to speak only with a Starfleet commanding officer to negotiate. "They will shoot unless I approach them first."

"I know." Bones looked at him with an odd expression. Jim returned his stare with a bewildered look of his own. Jim was certain Spock had been beside him. Not Bones, his best friend who now kept his distance and attended to the medical needs of their rescue team. "I know you have to be there. Jim, are you feeling-"

"Then what are we waiting for?" Jim muttered before the doctor could finish his query. He felt fine, considering. He sprinted from the doctor's grip, defying his instincts and the sluggishness of his body. They were headed into something bigger than they expected or ever imagined when they'd first rediscovered the Re'an species. Jim made his choice. He would forgo the attempt, the solitary rescue of his own despite the raw, sinking feeling gnawing in his stomach. What was he missing? The fire had come upon them so suddenly when they'd reached the vast, wild garden that they still waited on the proper equipment from the Re'an to extinguish the larger parts. Had it been planned? Instigated by one of their own? If so, oddly enough the renegade Re'an themselves were in the thick of it.

Tossing the idea aside, he made his way to Spock, who so far remained unaffected by the heat. Jim picked out his frame immediately and postured himself beside his First Officer. The brush surrounding the renegades was engulfed in flames but it wouldn't stop his crew, now equipped with masks. The feeling that he had failed raged wild and fierce just like the flames  carving a fiery path to the children inside the brush. He was almost there, but Jim knew he'd already failed to protect the ones he cared for the most.

The smoke shifted like a thick, heavy curtain parting from a stage and Jim peered through, catching sight of a tall, blue form tripping over his feet and coughing as he fell to his knees.

"Spock." Jim thought quickly as the alien being pushed himself off the ground, fruitless in his effort to stand, and slumped to the ground. The part of the garden untouched by fire was overgrown, making it impossible to pass through without removing brush or sustaining injury from thorns. "If we blast a clear way through the garden on the north end close to the captors, they'll take it because they can't handle the smoke."

He looked at Spock, waiting for his answer. The Re'an had to take it or the children they'd captured wouldn't survive the conditions.

"Understood, Captain. Considering the heat and the inherent risks in this operation, I recommend that I be the one to lead the security team in action." Spock regarded him intently.

"That's fine. I'll be...with Bones." Jim clenched the phaser in his hand. He knew his limits and although he rarely admitted them, this was one time he forced himself to speak the truth.

"Very well, Captain." Spock said.

Jim wiped his brow, a distinct weakness coursing through his body and threatening his ability to stand. With nowhere to lean and Bones too close for comfort, Jim exhaled a slow breath. Spock named five security officers, and they departed. A moment passed as the rest of the team waited.

"Jim, you're weaving." Bones clutched Jim's arm. "I think you should sit down."

"I'm fine," he muttered, irritated that he even required the doctor at his side when he knew his crew or the Re'an beings who dropped from smoke inhalation may need the doctor's assistance even more. He glanced around, finding his crew through the thick, enveloping haze. A few were missing besides Spock and five from security. He located Uhura and Carol. Nurse Chapel had beamed down with them as well and now bent over one of the unconscious Re'an renegades. "Where's Dr. Jahn-"

The ground trembled and the explosion pulsed in his ears, signaling that Spock had fulfilled his orders. Jim pushed his feet forward, Bones right beside him and his question forgotten. Sheer will propelled him towards the sound and the innocent children who'd been pulled into a life-endangering mess. From the corner of his eye, he saw Bones move to attend to a crew member with burns along his arm.

The doubt crept in again but Jim steeled himself from the thoughts of what could have been. This had been the straightest course he could've taken, at least according to Starfleet's standards. Within a full minute, Jim's plan forced the dozen renegades through that open path and beyond the fire and smoke in search of their own relief. Upon Spock's command, the crew surrounded them with phasers set to stun. Jim stood before the self-proclaimed and weapon-wielding Re'an leader, Man'en. As the prince's own cousin, Man'en surely knew that the Enterprise crew had the upperhand.

Jim straightened his shoulders despite a realization that settled distastefully in the hollow of his stomach. Casualties so far included the security officer at his feet - and unfortunately wouldn't end there. Those injured were several men and women who had been caught in the sudden flames.

"Captain Kirk." Man'en's eyes flared with anger, his words sporting contempt as he peered first at Spock and then at Jim. "You sacrifice much for a species so unlike your own."

"I have sworn that as the Captain of the Enterprise we will never turn our backs on those who are innocent," Jim said, stepping closer.

The Re'an dropped their weapons and all but one dropped their hold on their captives. Jim narrowed his eyes at the blue-skinned warrior woman whose hand clenched one of Lequa's sons, refusing to relinquish her hold on him. Her pale eyes glowed a cool peach, her face the picture of stoicism. Significantly shorter than the others of her species, her height struck Jim as most peculiar. Jim calculated that she would barely reach his shoulders but appeared to be a full adult Re'an in every other way. After a few seconds, her slender arm let go of her captive but her eyes never strayed from Jim's. He broke the contact as the captured children came forward with light, timid steps. Their eyes were wide, teeming with an emotion they never felt before - fear. Jim's stomach rolled upon seeing it in such a fresh, raw form. Their expressions echoed a horror, a feeling he experienced in his own youth.

The reminder drew too close. Jim held his frame with rigid indifference, an attempt to distance himself from the suffocating thoughts of his past. Uhura and Carol took the children by the hand and gave them each their own masks before leading them back to safe, unblemished parts of the palace. Upon recognizing the Starfleet captain, however, the prince's bald-headed son dashed headfirst into his chest. In a reaction so natural it would haunt him later, Jim's arm encircled the boy in comfort. It was worth the cost, but his heart thudded wildly as the weight and consequences of his choice crashed down around him. He glanced down at the boy and met with a set of bright eyes that, curiously, seemed to hold far too much for a child so young.

Jim frowned. The luring sounds of the Re'an animals echoed in his ears. As odd as it was, somehow he knew that the Re'an had shown him a better, mostly likely safer route to rescue their children. Doubt nagging at the back of his mind had caused his hesitation as he had questioned passing through the room containing alien creatures. He and the children were safe, but his crew had paid the price for his self-doubt. Recalling the dead crewman at his feet, guilt stabbed at him.

The situation became clearer as their first communication to the Enterprise failed. It became even more dire when he caught sight of Aleyah, unconscious, and the others who were wounded. The Re'an shields had malfunctioned and transport of the wounded to sickbay was delayed. Jim desperately wanted to revisit his choice.

If given a second chance, Jim thought that he might just take that Re'an way.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this chapter, we are officially halfway through part one. I actually feel a little guilty posting this (turbulent) chapter on a Monday! While Spock does not appear in this chapter, be assured he will return (in full form) very soon.

Jim's ragged breathing broke the silence and his eyes bored into the body bags before him. The three young security officers had suffered their deaths under his command and he couldn't shake the feeling that it was all his fault. He had spent the entire night reconsidering his command decisions as guilt and self-doubt kept him awake. He had followed protocol, heeding the advice of Spock, McCoy and even the security team. He listened to everyone at the expense of heeding his own instincts - and his crew had paid the price.

And for what? Did he have to prove that he could follow the rules? The passage through the Re'an's animals had practically screamed at him to take it, and he ignored it. Now he was sure it would have saved the lives of his crew members, making it worth the risk to his own safety. It wasn't that long ago that he would have jumped at the chance to risk his life for his crew. Was he losing his grip on his captaincy? Why was he suddenly unable to balance instincts with the advice of his senior team?

He clenched his fists, finding it increasingly difficult to keep them at his sides. He needed a target for the frustration building within him and his fists were eager to lash out for him.

"Jim." Bones laid a hand on his shoulder, a hand that was a blade, slicing deeply and offering no reassurance. For the first time in weeks Bones was initiating physical touch beyond medical necessity but it felt too icy to be of any comfort. "It wasn't your fault."

"I never said it was." The monotone voice wasn't his, nor was the doubt. He honestly didn't know who was here standing and talking to Bones. He didn't have to tell Bones how he felt. Bones just knew. Despite their recent falling out, he knew.

"You don't have to say anything. I can tell you are thinking it." Bones dropped his arm. The pressure left, allowing Jim to distance himself more. A few more inches and it felt like a million miles. "Jim, they died from fatal injuries. There was nothing you could have done to save them."

Jim nodded his head once, shrugging off the doctor's information. He had read Bones' report multiple times, the last time right before he entered this small room in sickbay. He'd come to pay respects to these men in solitude, but he realized now the decision delayed Spock's request to speak with them yet again.

"Maybe you should take the rest of the day off, Jim. You've barely slept since the attack."

"Two died when we were there. This makes five. Five. And those who were injured...that makes ten."

Aleyah received treatment for second-degree burns on her left arm and wrist as well as those on her right leg. She recovered, but one of the security officers still remained in sickbay for the burns he suffered. His away team had protected the Re'an at great cost to themselves. Several Re'an suffered from minor smoke inhalation, but only one was injured beyond that. Star Fleet command had postponed their next mission so the Enterprise could remain nearby and ensure the Re'an recovered.

"It's not. Your. Fault."

"Do you really believe that? I'm the captain. If something goes wrong, it is my responsibility. Mine and mine alone."

"You did everything by the book, Jim. You can't beat yourself up like this."

"I didn't do everything, Bones." Jim's mind raced considering all the possible courses of action he could have taken.

"What did you say?"

"I knew there was another way."

Bones scowled. "That doesn't make it altogether wrong for how you did act. You made the best choice you could."

"I knew there was another way, Bones," he repeated. Jim's skin prickled, remembering the scorching heat in the building and scrambling through smoke-filled overgrowth to rescue the children. While he remembered everything in vivid detail it still puzzled him. He was missing a piece of that puzzle. "Somehow, I know I could've prevent this. Every injury. Every death."

"Jim, there's no way you can know that. You're exhausted and not thinking clearly. As your friend, I am telling you that you need to rest. As your physician, I'm adding that if you don't sleep on your own, I am going to have to confine you to sickbay until you rest.."

"Sleep? In sickbay? Bones, I'm fine." His own well-being mocked him. When all this was finally over, he wouldn't even have a scar to remind him it happened. _But Aleyah would_. Remorse ate at him as thought back to the scene on the planet.

_Thick smoke still blanketed the garden as McCoy moved among the wounded, tending them as best as he could with the limited supplies he had available. Aleyah whimpered despite the sedation and Jim swallowed back on nausea as he stared at the ugly burns on her leg. He clutched the useless communicator, tempted to hurl it in frustration. Medical help lay on the other side of that device, but help that was unreachable due to malfunctioning Re'an shields. He could command a starship but fail to quickly fix the tampering the rebels had done. His crew's scars would be his fault, not caused by the delay in reaching medical care. Why did he include Aleyah on the team in the first place? Sure, he had reasons enough but deep down, it had to be his fault. She would be safe on the ship if he hadn't needed a buffer between himself and Bones._

Startling himself back to the present he scoffed, "In fact...did you take a look at me? Not a scratch. Not a single damn scratch."

"I refuse to apologize for being glad that you weren't hurt. Jim, think of all that didn't happen. You saved the prince's children."

"But it shouldn't have happened like this."

"You need to move past that thought."

"It's just so easy for you, isn't it, Bones? Everything." Jim said, wanting his sarcasm to sting but finding his droning voice simply echoing his thoughts. "You're sure of yourself. You don't second guess your every action because you need to prove yourself like I do. You can just forget and move forward. You have it all - even a young daughter who attracts beautiful women for her father."

"Just stop it, Jim," Bones scowled at the mention of his daughter, his chilling voice filling the room. "I thought you were concerned about your crew's safety. Is this really about you and wanting some fling, then? If that's the case, maybe you should think twice about why you're here."

Jim stepped back as the words hit their mark, stinging smartly. "Bones...this is about my crew."

Of course he cared for his crew. He had already died once to save them. How could Bones say such a thing to him? He was thinking out loud, trying to sort things out. He had lost crew members before and it always hurt, but why did this mission bother him so much more? Where had he gone wrong and why couldn't he move past the guilty feelings? For that matter, when had things gone wrong with Bones? Why was he messing everything up all the time? Jim acknowledged that at this particular point in time he wasn't eloquent of speech but Bones was not helping at all. Instead of attempting to patch up their misunderstanding, Bones had matched his sarcasm and everything threatened to escalate. Jim stared at him, confused. It was so unlike Bones that he opened his mouth to ask him what was wrong when Bones cut in.

Bones snorted as he let all the frustrations of recent weeks show through. "You could've fooled me. You're the one who insists he has it all under control when all you've done is shoved your feelings into a closet and slammed the door. You first need to admit to yourself that you have needs and feelings. If you do, you might find it easier to be nicer to all your friends and I wouldn't stoop to distracting Carol just to get your attention!"

"Are you and...?" Jim's breath left him, unable to correctly process what Bones just told him. "You've really ...asked her out?"

Was this what this was about? Jim was attracted to her, even more so after their earlier missions on Re'an V., but he wasn't ready for any kind of serious relationship.

He'd never be ready. The thought was preposterous despite his longings. Bones knew that although Jim looked, he didn't feel up to being the flirt he used to be - and hadn't until the night he'd spent with Aleyah, going over research. What Bones said had no truth in it - at all. Even if Jim had been interested in the first place, he would step aside for the sake of their friendship. As much as it pained him to consider that he had perhaps finally found a woman worthy of a lasting relationship, he would do that for his friend.

"No," Bones groaned. "That's not what I meant. I don't even like her in that way. I don't want to date her."

Jim shook his head, confused. "Wait...you don't even...what the hell, Bones. Are you trying to make me upset? Then why...?"

"It's not about what you think it's about, dammit!" Bones scowled, inching himself closer to Jim. Standing taller than his captain. Bones could pack a punch, a branding, powerful hurtful punch. Not wanting to be on the receiving end of one, Jim flinched and took two steps backwards.

"Then what is it about, Dr. McCoy?" He felt like a first year cadet again, not like the captain of the Federation's flagship. He felt isolated, afraid, and defensive. These feelings did not sit well with him, so he found himself resorting to cockiness to hide his insecurities. "I don't have all day. I have family members of the deceased to contact."

"You're not you, Jim," Bones swallowed. "You're losing yourself."

"Excuse me?"

"You're losing yourself and I don't know how to get you back!"

"Losing myself?" Jim asked in disbelief. "I have a ship with over four hundred crewmembers depending on my every move. I don't have the luxury to think about losing myself, Bones."

"But you need to."

"I thought this wasn't supposed to be about me?"

"Dammit, Jim. It is about you but it's also about the people you care about. Do you think that I want to be fighting with you?"

"Yes!" He glared at Bones, mentally slamming a fist into the wall. "I do! It's all you do now when we try to talk."

"Jesus, Jim. I'm not trying to make you upset!"

"You won't come near me unless it's necessary. If you do touch me, it's by accident and then you recoil. You've handed my care over to Nurse Chapel so that you don't even have a medical reason to touch me. You avoid me as much as a CMO can avoid a captain. You won't talk to me except as a doctor, either. For the first time in forever, you talk to me as a friend and it's to accuse me of being a...an insensitive jerk? A bad captain? To interrogate me about my feelings and how I'm coping?" He paused to catch his breath, scaring himself with his outburst. He caved, not having any fight left inside of him. His next sentence emerged as a pitiful whimper. "What the hell are you trying to do to me, Bones, if you're not trying to make me upset?"

"What am I trying to do? I'm trying...never mind. You're not going to get it, Jim. You never will! I can never tell you because you won't listen to me when I try to explain."

"I don't listen? I'm listening now."

"You're losing yourself, Jim. Your fire and passion for the chair, your impulsive decision making, the things that set you apart and make you Jim Kirk. The fact that you're upset enough to tell me about the mission proves it."

"I don't understand. I can't lose myself when it's part of the job to be who I am and guide this ship. I'm doing my best to keep the chair this time."

"I wish you would understand, Jim. This is what you do. You fight me."

"But I'm not," Jim pleaded. "I am trying my best, Bones."

"I see. And when I point out to you that you can no longer hide behind that face of yours or behind your act, that at some point your past is going to catch up with you-"

"Stop," Jim tried to take a mental step backward and speak to his friend calmly. "That has nothing to do with my ability to captain this ship."

"It doesn't? Then why did you ask Dr. Jahnas to accompany the away team?" Bones' face hardened.

"You have no reason to question my authority like that, doctor."

"Answer the question, Jim." Bones gritted. "Your reaction tells me that I sure as hell do."

"Fine." His anger surging, Jim fought to keep his temper under control. "I requested her presence on the away team so that she could observe their ceremony. Her insights would contribute greatly to her research database and furthermore in this way she could obtain the information I need from the Re'ans."

"Really. Those are the reasons?" Bone's jaw twitched and his eyes probed deeper than Jim liked. "You didn't ask for her to join the away team because she reminds you of Gaila and how Gaila supported you during your rough nights with nightmares at the Academy?"

"Don't you dare bring Gaila into this. She's dead. Dead, Bones. For three years now." To his dismay, his voice cracked with emotion as he remembered the vibrancy of a girl he had, indeed, cared for, despite appearances. "She has nothing to do with this."

"I'm waiting for your answer, Jim. She reminds you and-"

"That's not why!" Jim interjected, his heart thudding in his ears as he answered Bones honestly. What he had done didn't dishonor Gaila's memory as Bones implied. "I requested her presence also because...I knew...I knew you'd think that way...I knew it would upset you and distract you...from me."

Bones paled. "Shit, Jim."

"I know," he said in a small voice.

"You _used_ her...just like..."

_Just like Gaila._

"Enough, Bones. You want to get technical?" Jim mocked, retaliating. "Tell me. Whose fault is it really that I was so ill following that inoculation? It felt like I ate leather, Bones. Goddamn leather. You know I know how that feels like. Fucking Tarsus."

"I'm so sorry. I am, Jimmy," Bones' voice dimmed to practically nothing as he wilted before Jim's eyes - but Jim wasn't done.

"You didn't act sorry at all," Jim snarled, completely stricken again as the pain of what Bones did to him slugged him in the stomach. He couldn't even recall receiving a firm, honest 'I'm sorry' from the doctor. "And at first I thought maybe it was mostly my fault but it wasn't. It was -"

"I know whose fault it was, dammit, Jim! It was my fault, alright? All mine. I messed up. I was going to comm Spock so that he could witness my apology but then we received the distress call. I am more upset at myself than you'll ever realize, Jim, knowing what I put you through that day. Because of what you've been struggling with already. It...it didn't set you up well at all for any type of decision making. And neither did the pain medication that..I..." Bones sighed and looked at Jim, emotion brimming in his eyes and spilling over for Jim to see. "I set you up, Jim. For failure. Unintentionally, but I did it just the same. I think it influenced your decisions during the rescue. If there's anyone to blame, it's me."

"That's nice to know." Jim's sarcasm poured from his mouth and onto the doctor like hot wax. McCoy's anguished, humble response both egged him on and provoked the tears stinging his eyes, the ones he couldn't allow the doctor to witness. "Maybe now you'll get a clue to leave my past alone, doctor."

"Maybe it is about time I do just that. If you can't acknowledge that it affects you while we're on this mission, then _Captain_ , I can't help you anymore."

"What do you mean?" Jim's heart skipped a beat.

"You let past events define you today. You won't pursue a serious relationship because of things that happened to you. You acknowledge that your father inspires you but deny that you're running away from your past as much as you try to live up to his legacy. Your past affects everything you do, from running this ship to the way you talk with your friends. You clearly have relapsed and are recycling your old coping mechanisms. Dr. Jahnas proves it. Your behavior has deteriorated and your thinking and reasoning have diminished because you're running. You're running on fumes, Jim!"

"Fumes? That's not what's happening."

It wasn't. He had it all under control like he always did. Didn't he?

"Yes, fumes, Jim. You're barely hanging on. As your closest friend and your physician, it is crystal clear to me." Bones glared at him. "When was the last time you had a full nights rest without the help of a sedative?"

"I..." Jim took a hasty breath, not sure why that even mattered. "I'm not sure. Maybe...maybe..."

"You don't know, do you? When did you last eat three square meals on a single day, even with my assistance? When is the last time you woke up and thought of anything other than that blasted governor and the brutal times you fought trying to keep you and your band of kids alive? When did you last have a day without a single headache or an episode of spacing out? Or did you really think you could hide them from me?"

"I'm coping," Jim argued, tension creeping into his muscles. "It's not running on fumes. I'm fine."

"You're wrong, Jim. You're running because you're scared and someday soon, you're going to crash into a wall."

"My past is my business," Jim snapped when Bones skimmed upon a bit of the truth. "Not yours. Leave it alone, Bones."

"It is my business because I've seen you blank out, not only one time on that damn planet but also here right in sickbay a few days ago. You're lucky that I - and not Spock - was standing next to you on Re'an V."

"So I blanked out for a minute. No big deal." Jim argued. "You're making this a larger problem than it is, just as you inflate everything."

"Tell me exactly what am I exaggerating? Every damn bit is true. I know you, Jim, and I see just a shadow of yourself. I watch you struggling every day simply to maintain your cover. I see the Jim Kirk I once knew shriveling away daily because of what you so eloquently call your past. Everyone has a past, Jim, and you have to recognize that yours effects you to this day. You've always tried to pretend that things never happened, that you can just forget about them, but unfortunately your control is unraveling. You need to face your past, Jim, and deal with your stepfather, Frank. With Kodos..."

Jim flinched. "Stop, Bones. Just stop." His voice rasped with anger, enraged that those names had been uttered. "I'm fine."

"Say the governor's name, Jim, if you are just fine."

"Stay out of it," Jim's heart raced. "I'm fine."

"You can't say his name, can you?" Bones' eyes didn't reflect the compassion Jim was accustomed to- they were filled with frustration and anger. Bones gruffed at him all the time, but he was never really angry. Confused and worried, Jim tried to avoid the verbal onslaught as the doctor mocked him again. "Can you?"

"Why the hell would I even want to?" Jim argued, desperate to hide the truth. Heart pounding, he attempted to deflect by saying the first thing coming to his mind and as tauntingly as he could. "And what's up with your attitude lately? Why are you so bent on taking things out on me? Did Jocelyn's claws scrape you up a bit recently?"

"Wha...what?" Bones blinked at him but his hesitation gave him away.

Jim's mind raced as he realized with a hint of satisfaction that his best friend hadn't been exactly open with him, either.

"So, she has." Jim narrowed his eyes.

"That's not up for discussion," Bones growled.

"Not up for discussion," Jim chuckled ruefully, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Not up for discussion. Right. Well, neither is my past."

"It's not the same thing, Jim."

"The hell it isn't. When have you _never_ broken out the booze so you can deal with her? And _that's_ a good coping mechanism?"

"Say his name, Jim," McCoy snapped, returning the spotlight to Jim.

"Stop," Jim's eyes pricked again. He swallowed as his fear rose that his best friend had lost his own control. What was happening to them? "Leave me alone, Bones!"

"Fine. Have it your way. You're going to crash into a wall and I won't be there to help you."

"Is that what you've been trying to tell me all this time?" Jim's thoughts tumbled, sending him reeling. Bones would leave him? Their friendship? "You're telling me that...that..."

"You won't let me help you, dammit! So why should I even try?"

"Bones," Jim's voice cracked in desperation. "You can't mean...that..that our friendship has reached its end? Is that what this is? Bones? Do you want it to?"

"I'm telling you to get the hell out of my sickbay before I lose my ever lovin' mind trying to get you to see straight!" McCoy's thunderous voice was as threatening as anything Jim had ever heard. It cracked his soul, it choked the breath from him, it did everything possible to hurt him as it went straight for his most vulnerable place.

His heart shattered as it hit the floor.

They stared at each other for a moment, the silence widening the chasm between them. Bones' chest heaved and his eyes widened in shock. He appeared to be just as stunned. Painful, betraying tears threatened to spill from Jim's eyes. He swallowed, wanting nothing but his friend back. But what he saw and what he heard told him it wasn't possible.

"I see," Jim spoke, his voice thick with emotion. "If that's the case, for the time being it is my desire that Dr. M'Benga see to all of my medical needs. I understand now that our relationship will affect your ability to work and as captain I must amend the situation. You are no longer my attending physician."

"Jim, no." McCoy's face paled.

He didn't understand it. Any of it. Bones never yelled at him before about his past. They had always worked through it. Even this time, Jim had been sure he could work through it, but alone. Especially now that he knew Bones couldn't...couldn't deal with _him_. It was better this way - better for Bones. He turned on his heel. He grabbed the wall after one step, unable to match his breaths with his erratic, racing beats of his fractured, irreparable heart.

"I didn't mean-"

"You didn't mean any of this?" Jim took a deep breath and tossed the words over his shoulder. One foot in front of the other, he willed himself to move. "It's a little too late for that, now, isn't it?"

"Jim, wait..."

Jim paused, barely turning his head to reply as the doors slid open. He'd thrown hurtful words behind him but a lonely future loomed ahead. Jim wanted no part of it but he had no choice. He couldn't comprehend losing Bones and he couldn't imagine any way to fix this. The only way he could even attempt to survive losing Bones was to put up as thick of a wall as he could on his own selfish terms.

"Dr. McCoy, you will address me with such familiarity no longer, but as Captain."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of moving this story along, I will be posting Chapter 11 by tomorrow. It may be a little twisty from here on out. Hope you enjoy the updates. :)

Jim lurched his way through the Enterprise's corridors, ignoring the concerned looks of passing crewmen. Each step taunted him with resounding echoes.

_Bones had left him._

Reaching the safety of his quarters, he stumbled through the entrance and drank in the safety of his isolation. Attempting to ignore the tears that threatened, he stuffed memories of his friendship down, locking away as much as he could. Jim couldn't recall the origins of the tension that now flourished between himself and Bones, but whenever it began and whatever caused it, that friendship was now in shambles.

He knew that it was most likely his fault. Deep down he was always afraid the day would come when his past would collide with his present, resulting in destruction. He even wanted all of this to be his fault, because it was easier that way. Bones was good, despite the tendency to break out the alcohol as Jim accused.

As the tears he had been holding back began to leak from his eyes, he turned on that thought. He wiped his eyes. He was captain of the Enterprise and in control of the situation. It had been McCoy's mistake that lead to his doubt and poor decisions on Re'an V. The doctor had set him up for failure and quite possibly caused the catastrophe masquerading as a rescue mission on the planet.

Willingly choosing anger to replace his sorrow, Jim numbed his feelings and plodded to his bedroom. He eschewed the lights, knowing too well how atrocious he likely appeared with his unshaven face and two day old command shirt. Tossing the filthy shirt into the recycling chute, he tried to ready himself to resume command of his vessel. If he did this right, no one would suspect that his world had just fallen apart.

Shaving with minimal light, he managed to finish cleaning up without looking himself in the eyes. He hunched over on the edge of his bed. Bones was gone. He was alone. How could he go on without his best friend supporting him?

The minutes ticked by as he stared at the floor, waiting for something, anything to fill his empty places. Finally, he reached over to comm the bridge but stopped himself at the last moment. Better to use his numbness to carry him through his duties. His weakened mental state would likely collapse if he addressed Spock from the confines of his quarters. Jim walked to his desk and set up the PADD. Locating the fallen crewmembers' files, he pulled himself together for the umpteenth time and prepared to do what he must despite the fresh pain in his now hollow heart.

Though he had no idea how he would even get through the next minutes, he resolved that somehow, he would mask his devastation and push through this loss the way he had pushed through every other loss in his short life. If he had to resort to tactics that kept him alive on Tarsus all those years ago, he would. He could give a cold shoulder like no one else. He could behave quite amiably around his fiercest enemies if it served his own purposes. Surely he could do this around Bones, for Bones had made it loud and clear he'd washed his hands of his captain.

Jim clenched his jaw. He was Captain James T. Kirk of the Enterprise and nothing - not even the loss of his best friend - would get in the way of him performing his duties as he well should. He would prove to Bones that he was wrong and that Jim, as always, was in control.

 

* * *

 

A dazed McCoy stood alone, staring at the door as if he could will Jim back with sheer thought. What had he been thinking, arguing with Jim in sickbay? They could easily have been overheard, even here in the contained area with the bodies of the dead crewmen. His stomach contents threatening to spill over, McCoy covered his mouth and rushed to the connecting room holding overflow supplies and a much-needed sink. No only had he fought with his best friend in public, but he'd fought with him immediately after Jim solemnly stood in remembrance of these three fallen crewmembers. He had picked a fight knowing exactly how distraught and emotionally compromised Jim was at that moment.

McCoy made it to the sink just in time. He groaned, the nausea growing as the ramifications of what he said to Jim became clearer. He kicked the captain out after denouncing their friendship and refusing to help him. He had abandoned Jim just as so many others had done before him. McCoy deserved to be hauled off to the brig for that. He knew that Jim was on a path to self-destruction and had hoped that Jim knew it too and knew they needed each other, but his words had backfired. Jim should never forgive him for how he'd raged. McCoy had sunk lower than he'd ever imagined he could. He knew the second the words flew from his mouth that he'd gone too far.

"Dammit," he growled, punching the wall with a fist and welcoming the pain.

McCoy had feared it would take more than mere talk to break Jim's defenses, but hoped to avoid a total breakdown. Now he saw that his efforts had weakened Jim's already tenuous self-control and worse, had broken their bond of trust irrevocably. Though there was precious little he could now do, he could at least follow standard procedure and inform M'Benga. Hopefully Jim would listen to his new attending physician.

He braced his trembling arms against the counter. McCoy didn't have Joanna, except for the rare, precious appointments each week when they connected through the video feed. Jo, at eight years old, was growing - way too fast. He loved every minute he had with her but Jocelyn was pushing for more and fighting dirty using things of McCoy's own past to get it. If she won sole custody, McCoy would be left with only one visit or talk with Jo annually.

If he lost Jim, too...

McCoy gasped, fighting against the rising sob in his throat. It wasn't 'if." It was.

"Leonard?"

He startled. After a deep breath, McCoy roughly cleared his throat, not bothering to look back at Nurse Chapel. "Christine, where's Dr. M'Benga?"

"Leonard..."

He turned around then at her anguished whisper. Her face was pinched, white as a sheet. McCoy groaned, realizing by her expression that she'd heard every word.

"I was here the entire time, Leonard, searching the supply closet," Christine immediately apologized. "I couldn't leave without interrupting and it escalated so quickly...so I stayed."

"You will keep all this to yourself, Chris," he frowned, kneading at his forehead and a brutal headache developing faster than ever.

"I will." Christine handed him a cup of water and two pills. "I figured you might need this."

"Thank you." McCoy said, not sure how Christine knew he would be slammed with a headache.

"You went too far."

Too far? "I pushed Jim off of a damn cliff without a chute and then promised not to catch him," he growled. "Who does that?"

"A friend who cares deeply."

"I don't know what to do, Christine," he said morosely, shocked when a tear slipped from the corner of her eye.

"You don't?" Christine's eyes filled with even greater compassion. "Well, to begin with, you could apologize for going too far and hitting him when he's down. You've been through too much with Jim to give up and toss it away so easily."

"I don't think that is going to help."

"It's a start, Leonard. He's not only your captain, he's your best friend."

"It's more than a misunderstanding, Christine."

"I can tell even if I don't know the details. Leonard, everyone knows there is something going on. The captain's tried to hide it, but he's let on more than he realizes. I know you want to help him, but as you accuse Jim, I think you've lost a bit of yourself, too. Instead of attacking Jim, consider why you're doing this to him and what you want to accomplish. Every time you start to get near to him you pull back as if you're reacting to something hot. Even your medical training fails you around him. There has to be a reason. What's going on with you, Len?"

As Christine gently spoke, McCoy discovered she'd laid before him a clearer picture of himself.

"It's Joanna," he hoarsely whispered. "Jocelyn wants Jo. Completely...almost taking me out of the picture. I'm losing her and if I lose Jim, too...I can't watch him spiral out of control. I tried to stop it by doing the best thing I knew to do. I don't know what I was thinking, Chris. I don't know if I can explain any of this at the moment. Maybe...maybe I thought I could help him see it for himself before it was too late. But now...my actions only provoked him. It's too late, Chris. Too late."

"I'm so sorry," Christine exhaled a soft sigh. "And I'm sorry for the captain."

"He was a kid. A damn kid who saw more and endured more than anyone should," McCoy muttered to himself. "In a way, he's still that kid."

"He needs help."

"I screwed up," McCoy shook his head. "He won't accept it from me."

"Although I think your instincts are correct and that he needs to admit there's a problem for himself, your approach simply put him on the defensive," Christine said, her wisdom causing McCoy to frown as he considered the truth in her words. "And after hearing all this, combined with what I've observed in sickbay, he needs all the guidance, help, and aid he can find to get through this. I'm not altogether certain that the help should come from you. You're too close to the situation, Leonard. For his safety, you have to do the right thing, even if it will be difficult for you."

"It won't just be difficult for me," McCoy muttered. "Chris, where did you say M'Benga was?"

"I didn't." Christine narrowed her eyes.

"How am I going to explain this to M'Benga?" McCoy groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Spock. Spock's going to kill me."

An image flashed through his mind of the Vulcan tearing through corridors to sickbay, intent on rectifying the problem. Fortunately, logic was on his side this time, as the Enterprise needed a CMO, or Spock would very possibly consider ripping McCoy's head off of his shoulders if he learned the truth. In all honesty, McCoy realized that his clumsy handling of the captain's adverse reaction to the vaccine exacerbated Jim's condition and invoked a shameful and devastating domino effect. Spock only postponed his initial request to speak with the two of them because of the incident on Re'an - and Jim's obvious need for rest.

"Let Jim tell-"

McCoy snorted. "Jim won't tell Spock that I'm no longer his attending physician. I'm not altogether certain he'll log the change immediately, either. He'll wait for the first crisis to arise, which will be a complete disaster." More importantly, Jim was in no condition to command a ship right now. At the very least Jim required sufficient rest and some time to adjust to this new relationship of theirs. McCoy had no doubt Jim would fight with everything he had to remain in control.

"That can't happen. M'Benga is in surgery." Christine stated simply. "Should I assume the captain missed lunch?"

"M'Benga is in surgery?" To McCoy's knowledge, he himself was scheduled to perform the surgery.

Christine sniffed. "Due to a last moment change in schedule he is. Fortunately, you are available to remind the captain that he needs to eat. And that now makes more sense in my mind than any excuse you've previously given me before for his forgetfulness."

McCoy raised a brow, a bit surprised at her suggestion to disregard regulation. "Christine, your suggestion is..."

"Necessary." Christine set her jaw.

McCoy was going to go with devious. His nurse was altogether too smart.

 

* * *

 

When the captain was exactly one minute late for his duty shift, Spock commed Dr. McCoy. Perhaps the captain was delayed paying his respects to the three ensigns who had perished on the planet below them. The captain had left sickbay and Spock deduced from the doctor's gruff tone that something else had occurred since he last saw the two men. At that time Spock refrained from leaving his station, not wanting to misjudge the situation or miss Jim if he happened to appear on the bridge while Spock was searching for him.

Vulcans do not fidget and they do not worry, so Spock was doing neither as his fingers drummed against the arm of the command chair and watched the chronometer creep ahead. When he observed that the captain was precisely thirty-six point five minutes late he determined that he had waited long enough.

Jim didn't answer the comm in his quarters or anywhere at all. The computer could not detect his location indicating that Jim purposefully sabotaged the system, possibly because he didn't want to be discovered. Indeed, something was amiss.

"Nyota," Spock swiveled in his chair to speak to his wife but was interrupted by an incoming communication.

She took it and raised an eyebrow in question at Spock. "It's the Re'an, asking for the captain."

"On screen." Spock said, already rising when he heard the swish of the turbolift doors opening. He glanced up at his captain, momentarily taken aback by the expression on Jim's face. Frigid and steely, poised for a fight and certainly not prepped to speak with a normally friendly people. A foreboding sense stole over Spock. It was not what he anticipated or desired to see from Jim, for he had hoped against his own logic that he was wrong. However, the captain's appearance did inform him that Jim's late arrival was caused by the very reasons Spock had calculated.

"Do you wish for me to speak on your behalf, Captain?"

"No." Jim said shortly, finding his seat and smoothing his features just as Prince Lequa appeared on the screen. "Prince Lequa, to what do we owe this honor?"

"Captain Kirk." With the poise Spock had come to expect from Lequa no matter the situation, the prince smiled. "I am pleased to see that you are well."

"Thank you," Jim's smile didn't reach his eyes and his fingers gripped the arms of the chairs. As Jim replied, Spock surmised the captain's guilt replayed in his mind for the five crewmembers were not well but now dead. "How are your children faring?"

"They are well and wish to thank you and your crewmembers. We all do."

"We need no thanks." Jim shook his head.

"You have sacrificed greatly on our behalf. Extending our gratitude is the least we can do. Please allow us at least this to honor those who died to rescue my children."

"Of course." Jim's knuckles whitened, his distress obviously heightening. His words were too quick and clipped to be completely genuine. Spock drew closer to his captain with a single smooth step. "We are happy that your family is safe. The crew members who perished will be remembered with honor."

"We would like to show you our gratitude with a special gift, here in our home. One I am most certain that you, Young Kirk, will appreciate." The prince hesitated. "I realize you may not feel completely comfortable given recent events but please let me reassure you, all is well."

"I have no qualms, I assure you." Jim nodded once.

"Wonderful. Shall we expect you soon?"

"Certainly. I will assemble a team to accompany me."

"Ah, please do include your doctor. We would like to thank him as well for his attentions to our people as they recovered."

"As you wish." Jim's smile grew too large. "Until then."

The communication was cut and silence hit the room as the crew awaited orders. Jim sat still and seemingly encumbered by his own thoughts.

"Captain, I am amenable to accompanying you in addition to Dr. McCoy," Spock nudged him softly with his words. Jim blinked and shook his head as if to clear his mind.

"What? Oh...yes. Mr. Spock, yes, as well as Lieutenant Uhura. I also require a security team of five. And..." Jim glanced over at Sulu. Spock raised an eyebrow at the request for five security officers. Spock reasoned that Jim must feel some degree of unease about returning to the planet. "Lieutenant Sulu."

"Yes, Sir," Sulu replied.

"Meet me in the ready room in thirty minutes."

"Aye, sir."

"Great." Jim slapped his thigh and stood. "Now, I have-"

"To eat."

At McCoy's voice, Jim's expression shifted. His face, now completely void of emotion, placed Spock in a quandary. His foremost desire was to repair the fractured relationship he assumed persisted between the captain and Dr. McCoy. Knowing Jim, this would take time and whatever insight he had into the man called James Tiberious Kirk. Spock had both, but was unsure if inserting himself between the two men would cause their already precarious relationship to deteriorate. For the sake of his captain and the captain's command, he resolved to act despite any possible negative consequences.

"Dr. McCoy, I believe I left you explicit instructions. That is no longer your concern."

"Dr. M'Benga is otherwise occupied with an emergency surgery. He sent me with the reminder and..." McCoy thrust an energy bar at Jim. "This. Now that I have done what he has requested, I bid you good day...Captain."

McCoy nodded to Spock and headed towards the lift.

"Captain?" Spock repeated, lifting an eyebrow at Jim. The nod had been most unnatural coming from the doctor and pointed towards a singular, startling conclusion - McCoy was no longer the captain's attending physician. Spock opened his mouth to speak again, the weight of the situation multiplying quickly and just as swiftly causing dread to swirl in the pit of his stomach. "Captain, may I speak with you in the ready room?"

"Not now, Mr. Spock." Jim's face hardened. "Dr. McCoy."

Jim's sharp command stopped the doctor in his tracks. While Spock could not read anything in Jim's eyes other than unyielding control, Spock glimpsed a myriad of emotions - regret, worry, and grief - in McCoy's.

Logic delayed his previous attempt to approach the captain. The human part of him now forced its way to the forefront, its predominance urging him to no longer wait.

In a desperate, uncharacteristic move, Spock clutched Jim's arm. "I insist, Captain. The ready room."

"Fine," Jim forced through clenched teeth. Jim's arm oozed of tension beneath Spock's touch and in that instant, Spock sensed enough to immediately decide upon his course of action. Jim indicated his head at McCoy. "Dr. McCoy, report to the conference room in half an hour for a short briefing. We are returning to the home of the Re'an at the request of Prince Lequa so they may extend their gratitude towards us."

Jim paused and arched an eyebrow when McCoy gave a slight but audible sigh.

"Dammit," the doctor muttered under his breath.

"Do you have a problem with my orders, doctor?"

"No, Ji-..." McCoy scowled. Spock held his breath as he witnessed the precise effort Jim expended to remove every trace of emotion from his being. "Sir."

"I assume...I..." Jim rubbed his jaw and nervously cleared his throat, both of which, Spock deduced, were caused by McCoy's halting use of the captain's first name. Spock couldn't help but give the barest of frowns. "I assume...you will be up for the trip."

"Yes, Captain."

"Very well."

McCoy stepped towards the lift.

"Oh, and Dr. McCoy?" Jim's voice filled with a frightening brightness which differed far too much from his previous demeanor. A chill coursed down Spock's spine, but more so from the wild, tumbling nature of Jim's emotions. They hinted of Jim's desperation in another time and place - but penetrating them was impossible. They were opaque to Spock, his intrusion blocked by something he could neither explain nor fathom.

McCoy halted mid-stride. "Yes, Captain."

"Spock. Let. Go. Of. My. Arm." Jim stretched each and every word, glaring in irritation as he jerked his arm away from Spock's grasp. Spock only released his hold on Jim for the sake of controlling his own burgeoning emotions. McCoy's shoulders folded forward in an unprecedented meek stance, his eyes just as humble as he awaited the captain striding towards him.

"Regarding your visible disdain for my orders and for the planet we are to visit. Consider this your first warning," Jim said softly, face now mere centimeters away from McCoy's. He was obviously speaking to the doctor but Spock picked up every word and each nuance of the captain's expression. The iciness in Jim's eyes was too frigid and unnatural to be anything else but a defensive mechanism, but the sardonic smile on the captain's face was that of a complete stranger. " _Doctor_."

Jim turned away. The slap in the face that didn't occur echoed in Spock's ears.

His friends were broken. Jim was broken. A swish of the doors behind the departing doctor interrupted Spock's brief reverie. "I will have that word with you now, Captain."

Jim stiffened and paused in front of his chair. "Spock, are you aware that we lea-"

"I insist." Spock nodded his head in the direction of the ready room.

Jim gave a curt nod. Thirty four seconds later the two stood alone in the ready room. Jim crossed his arms and faced his First Officer, tension evident in the tautness of every muscle.

Spock stepped towards the nearest chair and indicted the next one with his hand. "Please sit down."

"I prefer to stand, thank you."

"Jim, please sit."

"I said that I prefer to stand, Commander." Jim's face revealed nothing, a mask of control, feigned though it was. "Of what do you wish to speak with me?"

Jim turned to face the wall with his face now partially concealed from view. The captain rubbed his jaw but after a few seconds his hand stilled, his profile now frozen and belying all that raged within him. He held that posture as Spock deliberately allowed the silence to stretch.

Finally, Spock chose to reply.

"Jim, as your first officer, I must inform you that you are emotionally compromised. Sir, under Star Fleet regulations I hereby relieve you of your command."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is where we veer off the trail of Tarsus a little. As I said in the beginning, it does play a good part. However, there is a bigger picture that will unfold more and more with each chapter. 
> 
> And on that ominous note, I'll let you carry on with your reading. I'm not sure when I will update next but it should be by the weekend. I've greatly appreciated your comments - thank you for taking the time to do so!

* * *

Jim's eyes fluttered shut as Spock closed the door on his command. He cursed under his breath and hit his head against the wall with a dull thud.

"While it is not my intent to cause you further distress, Jim, I would be remiss in my duties if I permitted you to continue to command under these circumstances," Spock said softly.

Jim nodded absently and pressed his forehead against the wall. The Vulcan surely did not lie but it did hurt Jim. Just when he was beginning to think he could do this, Spock sent a shot directly into the already broken pieces of his heart, inflicting another aching wound. What McCoy had started, Spock was finishing, stripping Jim of what he held dear. Jim braced himself, hand up against the wall and against the pain of losing his command. He placed his other hand there as well and unwittingly assumed the posture of surrender. Feeling faint and numb to the core, he gave up, stumbling over to the chair and collapsing into it.

"I have observed that you and Dr. McCoy have become...estranged from one another. Your command decisions and behavior have become erratic and have been noted by members of the crew. I believe that your relationship with Dr. McCoy is instrumental to your health and ability to command this vessel. You must take appropriate action to repair your relationship before resuming your duties. Your attending physician must attest to this."

Jim sunk into his hand shielding his face, as if that lessened the blow. He hoped Spock would understand that although he may not be captain of the Enterprise, he could not be sidelined once more. "I must accompany the away team to Re'an, Spock. Captain or not."

"Jim, you are still my captain, only temporarily relieved of command." Spock paused. "Your presence on the away team will be at my discretion. Since Dr. McCoy will also be included on the team, my first condition is that you demonstrate that you and the doctor are able to be in close proximity without resorting to hostilities."

Jim rubbed his jaw, chuckling ruefully. "Close proximity. That's...ironic," he muttered. "Why don't you ask him that."

"I do not understand. You suggest that he does not wish to be in your presence."

Jim crossed his arms, silent.

Spock continued. "I am aware that being in each other's presence is often necessary for humans to maintain a healthy relationship with one another. Could this idea not carry over as a beginning to repairing your fractured friendship with Dr. McCoy?"

"There has to be a friendship in the first place," Jim mumbled.

Jim swore he heard the Vulcan's spine crack as it stiffened even more. "Have you and the doctor more than argued?"

Spock's words became laborious to discern as Bones' shouts for him to leave his sickbay buzzed at the forefront. Argued? It had been much more than that and Jim did not wish to discuss any of it.

"I will brief the doctor on my actions and hear from him before making a final decision. I will only consider your presence on Re'an V if you agree to a medical examination, one that must be given as soon as Dr. M'Benga is available. Circumstances will delay our departure until tomorrow evening planet time. I will inform Prince Lequa that shipboard events necessitate this. There will be a mission briefing tomorrow at 1500 hours at which time I will determine whether you will be included on the away team. For the time being, you may return to your quarters until further notified."

Jim duly nodded.

"Jim, you must understand." Spock's voice warmed but Jim could not meet his eyes. "I would be able to assist you, but only if you would allow me to do so."

Jim finally turned his head and stared at the one person who seemed to be looking out for him. "May I go now?" He asked in a quiet voice, shifting his gaze away from Spock when the Vulcan's expression softened and threatened his control. 

Spock watched him carefully. "If that is what you wish."

"It is." 

"Jim..." Spock began.

"Please, Spock," Jim whispered. "I need some time alone."

Then, for the second time in a ship's day, Jim Kirk found his way through his beloved ship's corridors to the safe haven of his quarters. Finding himself alone once more, he crowded himself back into a corner of his bedroom on the floor and began to sob as he had not done since he was a child in Iowa. Now, as then, no one came to offer comfort.

 

* * *

 

His guests seated with drinks in hand, McCoy eased into the empty spot on his couch with a sigh. It'd been a long day. He sipped from his glass, rethinking that. Long didn't describe it.

It'd been the second worst day of his life. And, coincidentally, both the first and second worst days of his life centered around Jim.

"Dr. McCoy, your glass is filled with drinking water." Spock's gaze probed.

Refusing to squirm, McCoy lifted his chin along with his glass. "Cheers."

The Vulcan continued to stare. McCoy glanced at Uhura beside him. She merely arched an eyebrow.

"If I'm going to help Jim, attending physician or not, I need to be thinking straighter than I have been."

Spock stared hard at him. "Dr. McCoy, you infer that you have been drinking in excess."

"Yeah," McCoy gruffed. "When it was acceptable, off duty and all of that, perhaps a little too much."

Spock wore a rare frown. 

"It took Jim, of all people today - and during our argument, no less- to point that out." McCoy joined in the frowning fest. How the hell had Jim figured him out and what was keeping McCoy going in spite of his own mountain of problems?

"I'm sorry, Leonard," Uhura said quietly. "What is going on with you?"

"Chris asked me the same thing today." McCoy sighed. "I don't know if I can answer that again."

"You don't have to." Uhura's eyes softened. "But I'm guessing it's Jim but also something else that has to do with an adorable, vibrant little girl."

McCoy gulped back the rest of the water in his glass. Uhura, like Jim, knew what buttons to push although her approach was a hell of a lot gentler. He wouldn't divulge any of the argument he had with Jim but he could mention Jo.

"The ex wants her." He couldn't even say the witch's name anymore. He scowled at them both. "She also wants to strip all of my rights away, and she's winning, thanks to a few things in my past that she has twisted to use for her own benefit."

"I assume that you never informed Jim of your situation?" Spock's eyebrows practically knit together as he waited for McCoy's reply.

"No," McCoy shook his head. "I couldn't put that on him, not with him barely holding on. He would want to fix it, do everything he could in his power but I couldn't allow him to do that. He has needed every ounce of concentration to run this ship, ever since..."

Ever since the signs began that Tarsus returned to haunt his best friend, and McCoy knew it would be either a spiral down in the blink of the eye or the longest fix of denial Jim ever had. He scowled down at his empty glass. Strangely enough, the water worked just as well as the booze to loosen his tongue.

"Today, I said some things I didn't mean to say to Jim. I hurt my best friend about as deeply as I could, and then some."

The admittance was freeing. He welcomed the slowly rising anger in Spock's eyes and the slight horror in Uhura's that was directed at him. He wanted Jim's anger, but Jim was refusing anyone's comms but Spock's and according to Spock, Jim had spoken very little. Jim was alone, and it was the worst possible time for him to keep himself in solitary confinement in his quarters. However, he discovered after a little digging that Jim was sedated for the evening, and that gave McCoy only a small amount of relief. Would it be enough for Jim's overall health to get him through a short time on Re'an V without showing his compromised state? McCoy wasn't certain of that, but it was a start and the only thing M'Benga could do as Jim's presence on the team was deemed necessary by Spock.

"He believes your friendship to be over."

"Yeah," McCoy groaned, rubbing his face. "I imagine he does, and the mistake is on me." It was a growing list.

"I do not believe you intended to sever what both of you hold so dear," Spock said.

"No, I didn't." McCoy's throat swelled. He barely kept his tears at bay. He couldn't imagine how much work he'd have to do to repair the damage he'd done with Jim.

Uhura furrowed her brow. "Leonard, is there anything we can do to help? With Jo?"

"Give them back to me," McCoy said roughly, not really expecting them to be able to do so. "Get both of them back."

 

* * *

 

Aleyah's slight limp did nothing to slow her down and she easily caught up to Nyota as the two headed for the mission briefing the next day. Cocking her head, the Orion quipped, "Lieutenant, I am so delighted we are both returning to Re'an. Is the captain...I mean, Kirk, coming today? We both know how passionate he has been about our research. I assume he convinced Acting Captain Spock to include him for diplomatic purposes."

Nyota caught herself before she sighed in irritation. Leave it to Aleyah to fish for information and discuss James Kirk all in the same breath.

"I am sure that Mr. Spock will include all necessary information in the upcoming meeting." Nyota murmured right before the doors slid open.

Aleyah glanced sideways at her, her smile drawing in a familiar smirk. "He is. I see it in your eyes. I'm glad."

The xenozoologist tossed her head and slipped ahead of Nyota who grimaced. That woman. Entering the room both women immediately fixated upon the forlorn figure of Kirk, slumped in his seat across from Spock at the table. Nyota's heart twisted as she realized how difficult the next thirty minutes would be for him. The lost, strained look on his face spoke volumes about the depth of despair he must be feeling. It was a cliche, but McCoy, too had the appearance of a lost soul. To lose a friendship that deep must be agonizing.

Before Nyota could stop her, Aleyah approached the captain like a cat, oblivious to the taut expression on Kirk's face. The woman slid into the seat beside him and greeted him in her honey-smooth voice. Her appearance shattered Kirk's stony silence but after giving her a curt reply he slid a mask into place.

Nyota took the other side of Jim. "Good afternoon, sir."

Kirk stiffened. "Lieutenant."

Using the momentum from sitting, she nestled into her seat and nudged the chair closer to Kirk in an obvious show of support. As she did this, Kirk's face turned ashen. Arching her back, Nyota turned her head and noticed that McCoy had just entered. Ignoring Star Fleet codes of conduct, she instinctively reached towards Kirk under the table and gave his clammy hand a quick squeeze. He choked down a hasty breath and unclenched his fists. With a short nod of his head as she pulled her hand away he signaled that he had himself under control. The quiet thanks from his flickering eyes settled her unease a smidgen and she turned her attention to Acting Captain Spock and the commencing meeting.

 

* * *

 

 

Jim breathed a sigh of relief once the meeting was adjourned and stood from his chair after the others filed out.

He only wanted to get through the rest of the day with as little speaking as possible, as he had managed during the briefing. Without Bones, without his ship, his heart wasn't into anything, let alone speaking except for when it was necessary. He wasn't oblivious to the dip in crew morale, but he couldn't find it within himself to say anything to fix it. He was captain no longer, anyway. Jim's control remained only because he told himself he didn't care and did what he could to keep silent.

When he heard the steps of McCoy lagging right behind Jim as they walked to the transporter room, a move he did not see as accidental, emotion pricked his eyes once again. He silently endured the festering hurt. If only Bones had not approached him on the bridge so soon...

At least Spock and M'Benga had approved his presence on the away team, if only for the shortest of times. McCoy had washed his hands of Jim, the doctor had made that crystal clear. In turn, the fact that Jim was required to promptly return to sickbay to speak with M'Benga once again was none of McCoy's business. Nor was the state of his health from here on out. Jim quickened his stride and in his mind, he left the doctor in the dust. He made the beaming platform along with Uhura.

"It'll be alright," she murmured, her shoulder brushing against his arm as she stepped beside him. "Captain."

Spoken for his benefit only, the endearment caught him by surprise. He swallowed, not trusting himself to look in her eyes. If anyone could make him talk it might just be her. Before his molecules separated, the realization dawned why Spock had asked Uhura to remain with Jim while on planet in the first place.

Deep in thought, Jim almost missed the greeting from Prince Lequa once they beamed down. Jim kicked himself. The Re'an could not suspect Jim was not currently in command of his ship and being a distracted captain would only confuse the situation. During the briefing, Acting Captain Spock emphasized the fascination the Re'an had with Jim. To alter their perception was not logical - it would be detrimental to the peacefulness between the two species.

"We are honored to be here once again, Prince Lequa," Jim bowed his head.

"I am the one who is honored, for your actions saved my children. My people are exceedingly grateful that you apprehended those who endangered us all." The prince gestured with a broad sweep of his hands behind him. "Come. We have prepared another banquet for you and my children are delighted to greet their guests. But, first, a tour of what is being rebuilt after the unfortunate fire destroyed sections of our gardens."

Leading the way, Spock walked beside Lequa through the stone-lined corridor. Jim lingered back slightly, admiring again the impressive columns. The doorways were almost too numerous to count, but for Jim remembering the layout was easy. During the hours he'd slept, he dreamt of this very part of the palace and the creatures' murmuring.

"Is the rehabilitation of your criminals progressing as expected, Prince Lequa?" Spock questioned.

"It is, Commander Spock. They have all begun the six-month term..."

As Lequa's response continued, a lump grew in Jim's throat. They neared the very location that had been nearly destroyed by fire. Jim strained to hear the creatures in their enclosed sanctuary as they began to pass it. He was certain the Re'an would bring the snakes out during the banquet and afterwards, but to see them, wild and free...

"Captain." A hand touched his forearm.

He blinked at Uhura. She indicated her head at the group ahead of them striding towards the garden. When had he stopped walking with them? For that matter, how had he found himself inches away from the vined doors of the creatures' sanctuary? He couldn't make mistakes like this. If McCoy had noticed anything peculiar, he'd pull rank and beam Jim back to the Enterprise in a heartbeat. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

"Do you need Dr. McCoy's assistance, sir?" Uhura murmured.

Jim gritted his teeth as his composure cracked far too easily, just as it had done so many times these past weeks. It was all he could do not to express his irritation at someone, and Uhura was not at all deserving of it. "No."

He shouldn't have been surprised at her clipped nod. Had they not been on duty, Jim would have half-expected her to call him on his bull.

"I'm fine," he said with more confidence than he had. "I suppose we should catch up."

"Would you like to see?"

Jim and Uhura both swung around. Prince's Lequa's wife, Eoksa, beamed at them from behind, her peach eyes drawing Jim to her vibrant personality as she lead a small procession of guards, attendants, and children towards them. Jim and Uhura both bowed their heads in the Re'an usual greeting.

"It is a sacred room," Princess Eoksa announced.

"The prince has informed us of that, as well." Jim agreed, ignoring Uhura's slightly confused look.

"Would you like to sneak a peek?" The princess cocked her head and motioned behind her. Four guards moved swiftly to the doors before Jim replied. As they left their places, others moved to fill their places but not before a petite Re'an being behind them caught Jim's attention.

Jim froze, identifying her as the female warrior who taken part in the kidnapping of Lequa's children. In a blink of an eye she vanished. Jim scanned the attendants and guards of the princess. Where did she go? He'd seen her, but he shouldn't have. She had been sent to a rehabilitation facility on the other side of the planet - and would be there with the other renegade Re'an beings for their required term. It just wasn't possible.

"Here on Re'an V, we encourage inquisitiveness. Take for instance, the snake you held, Captain Kirk."

Jim's attention snapped back to the princess at the mention of her son's creature.

"Yes, the snake. It was truly magnificent." Jim bit his tongue to keep himself from boldly requesting to view the creature.

Eoksa nodded knowingly at Jim. "I see you were taken with it as much as it was taken with you. I know my son would like to show it to you later. You, also, Lieutenant, if you'd like. After the banquet, of course. Would that suit you, Captain?"

Jim couldn't deny her genuine words nor the utter curiosity he had that would not be sated until he saw at least one of those creatures. Bones' absence took almost everything from Jim, and Spock wrenched away from Jim what had been left. He felt both his face heat and his heart fill a little with her gracious offer.

"Yes, it would," he managed.

"But for now, I don't think my husband would mind our guards opening these doors for you. After all," she paused and bowed her head low towards him. "We are greatly indebted to you and your crew."

She rose and motioned to the guards. Jim's curiosity swelled as wide as the opening doors, swiftly becoming an aching desire to see the snakes.

"This room has been vacant for many months, but earlier today we established a small shrine for our religious purposes. It is arguably the most impressive areas in the palace, beginning with its doors. It's no wonder you were sidetracked, Young Kirk. I'm humbled it drew your attention."

Jim frowned. Vacant? For months? He looked at Eoksa, keen disappointment mixed with confusion. As their gazes met, her eyes flared, illuminating until its intensity pierced Jim's own eyes and he was forced to look away. Jim furrowed his brow and glanced back towards the widening doors. Not a single cry slipped from the room. Questioning himself in earnest, he began to wonder if he had actually seen the warrior woman. He knew he was losing his grasp on reality due to the intrusion of his Tarsus memories, but if this continued and worsened someone would notice. Then he'd be forced to inform Bones...no...M'Benga now.

No. Jim shook the doubt away. He couldn't doubt himself. He'd heard the creatures in this very place. He-

The guards stepped aside. Jim stared in disbelief, too shocked to enter with Uhura.

Jim broke out into a cold sweat. It could not be the same room. This was stark white, uninhabited, spotless, and almost empty, save the small shrine along one wall. But Lequa explained to him everything regarding this room. It held the snakes, the birds...the...

But they weren't there and no trace of them remained.

"Princess Eoksa, this room has been completely vacant...until today?" Jim swallowed uncomfortably.

"Oh, yes, Young Kirk. Completely stripped and empty, waiting for us to conform it to our present purposes." Her voice dashed him like a bucket of cold water.

This couldn't be. Jim stepped forward. Desperate to be right, he reached in his memory for every detail of his conversation with the prince. Lequa had told them all, hadn't he? The door...there had to be at least another door...

Jim's gaze trailed the entire length of the room- but he found nothing resembling another exit leading to the Re'an garden. In fact, there were no other doors except for the one Jim and Uhura had just walked through.

The truth sunk in and panic latched its cruel hands around Jim. That conversation had occurred between two, no more. No one else had been informed of this room.

Absolutely no one...but Jim.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over the next few days, I will be uploading two chapters at a time, at the very least. I'd love to catch up with the posting schedule I have on another site. The last two weeks I've taken my time posting here because while I have prepared these chapters, I've also edited them a little. 
> 
> So obviously, things will be picking up and I really hope you are enjoying the story so far. It's been simmering for awhile but that is quickly changing. ;-)

A groan rose from the back of Jim's throat as he compared the empty room to the vibrant one he had expected. What was he doing on the planet in this condition? Bones was right; he belonged in sickbay where he would not endanger his crew. Despite that being the logical thing to do, his gut instinct said to ignore rational thought and remain here. But wasn't that one of the reasons why Bones had yelled at him in the first place? Not choosing to run with his instincts? Faced with indecision, he bit the inside of his cheek, the drawing of blood strangely grounding.

"Are you alright, Captain Kirk? Do you need anything?" Princess Eoksa asked. He bent under her imploring eyes, speaking the first thing that came to his mind.

"Dr. McCoy," he whispered. Bones would know how to help him, like always. 

"Sir?" Nudged by Uhura's sharp breath, Jim's face drained of color. He almost looked away, wanting to hide his mistake while at the same time fighting for a sense of reality, for a line that wasn't blurred, for a shoulder to lean on...for anything. But the truth hurt. He was more alone than ever.

"Captain, you would like me to get Dr. McCoy?" Uhura hesitated.

"No," he said, unable to disguise his dry rasp. He really didn't care to earn a one-way ticket back to the Enterprise. What if he hadn't imagined creatures in the room and it somehow was changed - to trick him? If his crew was in danger on Re'an V, Jim had to find a way to get them to the Enterprise the swiftest but most diplomatic way possible. Without Bones knowing - or Spock. And if Jim's mind had deteriorated as much as he thought it might have, he could not attract more attention to himself. "Lieutenant, I'm fine."

"I'm happy to hear that, Captain Kirk," the princess said sweetly. "I would hate to disappoint my son today. Be aware, he may pester you for a story or two of your recent discoveries."

Out of nowhere she held out to him a young, writhing snake. Still reeling from his mental instability, Jim stared at the snake in wonderment, all the while contemplating that he had something more serious to take care of than continuing to please the Re'an princess.

"Take it, Captain," the princess urged.

He had a few minutes to spare, didn't he? As soon as its crimson, shimmering scales met with his skin, his mind softened, curling all its thoughts around the creature. His shoulders dropped, but not under his previous burden. If anything, his load had lightened. He'd forgotten how good it felt to be relaxed and the moment stretched. He stared, mesmerized with this smaller snake as much as he'd been with the grander creature days ago.

"It's a rups'el," the princess explained. "Similar to your Terran garter snakes but with two extra eyes and the full size much smaller than most adult snakes. And like the other, Young Kirk, it senses strength of spirit."

Jim slowly grinned as he held it in his hands. He didn't care what it was - only that the creature was comfortable enough to touch him. It slithered up his arm, stopping near Jim's shoulder and curling its tail once around his bicep. _Aleyah would appreciate this._ "I assume our xenozoologist has seen this little guy?"

"She has. Lovely, Dr. Jahnas is," Princess Eoksa peered at him. "Perhaps she would like to again, before we eat. To whet your appetite, so to speak."

"Lieutenant." Jim's skin warmed where the creature rested. He kept his eyes on the snake. "Would you please inform Dr. Jahnas that her presence is requested here?"

Uhura was silent, testing him. He stared hard at her, daring her in return to disobey his order in front of Eoksa. "Of course, _Captain_ ," she finally said.

 

* * *

 

It was almost thirty minutes later before Jim managed to simultaneously peel himself from the rups'el and extract both he and Aleyah from the vigilant eyes of Eoksa and her guards. Jim fell in step with Aleyah, carefully calculating his next move.

"Dr. Jahnas, I am going to need your assistance obtaining information from the Enterprise," he muttered in her ear as they approached the banquet hall. He grimaced at her arched eyebrow but continued. "Yes, Acting Captain Spock has severely curtailed my access for the time being. However, I am suspicious of the Re'an's motives for our mission here and need access to some of that information before I bring it to his attention."

"What would I need to do?"

"I need the names of those renegades and in particular, the name and description of the one who is unusually petite." Jim frowned, perturbed that he couldn't remember the information he was certain he'd read several days ago. And the partial image on the rocket wasn't much to work with, only what appeared to be part of an arm and a tail of a snake. "Also, a description of the full, pieced image on the rocket, if they have it."

She looked sideways at him. "Dr. Marcus already discussed the image with me yesterday and I am more than happy to tell you everything I know. But the details of the renegades have been classified to command staff and I doubt Mr. Scott would tell me anything. He knows the ramifications of doing so."

"Listen, Aleyah, I need you try." Jim forced his face to relax as a pair of Re'an youth walked past them. He gently grasped her arm and pulled her closer. "If he is suspicious, I'll just deal with it later."

If Scotty suspected Jim was behind Aleyah requesting information, the engineer would tell Spock right away. Jim sighed. He had no choice but to turn to Aleyah for help if he wanted to get to the bottom of this before anyone else got hurt. It was a risk, and he had to move fast.

"Why the secrecy?" She looked curiously at him.

"I think...I think there's something unusual going on here. If I'm right, and you know I am, I am the only one who can find out. Until I get proof, Dr. Jahnas, this has to be an unofficial investigation. I can't drag the Enterprise into this until then." He paused, knowing full well that she would not refuse his request.

"I'll do it." Aleyah practically preened as she smiled at him, eyes bright under her long lashes.

"Thank you." He gave her a fluid smile, relieved he had her cooperation. There was more to say but that could come later.

There was a hitch to her step. She careened into his chest, Jim allowing it so she wouldn't fall to the ground. "It's my pleasure."

Jim looked up and his breath caught. Dr. McCoy stood near one of the banquet hall doors, watching them with a scowl.

 

* * *

 

After the banquet ended, Spock stood next to his superior officer as they awaited presentation of the gift Lequa had promised them. Logical concern for that officer had been on his mind for the past forty-six minutes ever since he received the equally concerned comm from Mr. Scott and look from Dr. McCoy. Breaking his silence, he quietly observed, "Captain, you appear to be quite anxious."

If speaking to Jim did not alleviate his own anxiety for the captain's health, Spock would order Jim to be directly beamed to the Enterprise.

Jim frowned, swirling the liquid in the glass he held.

"I must inquire as to why."

"Now's not the time, Spock," Jim clenched his jaw and indicated his head to the group of Re'an and Enterprise crew members taking places in various chairs and couches in a corner of the banquet hall. Spock did not miss the way Jim's eyes swept over the thirteen arched entrances into the hall before returning his gaze to Spock.

Spock clasped his hands behind his back. "We are awaiting their presentation, yes, but we are alone. If you do not inform me at this time, I will insist that you return to the Enterprise immediately. I have also been made aware of your attempt to elicit information from Mr. Scott through Dr. Jahnas."

Jim scowled and gulped down the remaining drink. He wiped his mouth, eyes hardening along the edges. The lines on his face deepened as he stared at an empty space in front of him. "Either I'm losing it more than I thought I was or they're lying to us."

"Jim-"

Jim held up a palm. "Don't, Spock. Please. Don't ask me..."

Spock fell silent for a moment, observing Jim as he watched his crew with their hosts. "May I inquire why you believe they are lying?"

Jim rubbed his eyes and sighed, and the vague explanation that followed deeply troubled Spock. Learning that Jim was tormented in his mind by a tragedy he refused to name and helpless to control the illusions unsettled Spock. As he weighed the situation in his mind, his own calculations were also disconcerting. It was more likely that Jim had imagined the conversation with Lequa and the creatures in the room than the Re'an had lied.

"You don't believe me." Jim's face fell, shoulders sagging.

An unprecedented sadness swept over Spock. Taken by surprise he swallowed, giving himself time before replying. "I do not wish to hurt you, Jim."

"That's the second time you said that to me in the past twenty-four hours." Jim whispered. "And both times, Spock, it has hurt me."

"It is not safe for you to be here, Jim." Spock could not bear for this to go any further. It was all too clear to him now - he was losing his captain.

Jim spoke with a controlled but vicious edge. "If I'm right, Spock, it's not safe for any of us to be here."

"I will be cautious, taking in consideration what you have told me. In the meantime, I will inform Prince Lequa that your presence is immediately required on the Enterprise." Spock took out his comm.

"No." Jim's eyes widened. "Spock. Please, don't send me back. You don't understand."

Spock observed the distraught man and calculated the odds of Jim refusing his offer at at ninety-nine point three percent. He swiftly reinforced his shields to ward off the emotional backlash and stated slowly, "Jim, there is one way I could quickly ascertain what is real and what is imagined. Do you wish me to meld with you now?"

Mentally stepping back, Spock awaited the harsh reaction he expected. No doubt Jim would refuse to yield information he wished to remain private.

Jim paled and took an unsteady step backwards. "That's not...that's not an option."

"Then you leave me no-"

A woman cried out. Spock jerked his head to the commotion on the other side of the room. All attention focused on the corner where several forms huddled around a woman slumped on the floor. His vision narrowed as he recognized Dr. Jahnas to be the woman who collapsed. She blinked up in confusion at the concerned face of Dr. McCoy crouching over her.

Determined to return Jim back to the Enterprise, Spock jerked his head back around. His chest constricted. The spot where the captain had stood beside him seconds ago was now eerily vacant.

Jim had simply disappeared.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated with two chapters today - please make sure you read 12 before this one. :-)

"It appears, doctor, that our emotionally compromised captain remains quite resourceful. He used the commotion to his advantage and vanished from the area."

McCoy's hand slipped on the tricorder. He jerked his head away from the woman at Spock's terse statement. If that was true, McCoy swore he would strangle Jim. "Like gone and you can't find him? Like, you didn't manage to send him back to the Enterprise where he should be but rather he is galavanting solo around the palace gone? As in not here and tripping over his own two feet exhausted and sick gone?

"Indeed, doctor. I observed him eyeing the various exits as we spoke. After Dr. Jahnas collapsed, I noted his disappearance and searched the hallway but was unable to locate him. Neither did he respond to my comm." Spock set his eyes upon McCoy's patient, his tone cool and detached. "This distraction was quite timely, Dr. Jahnas."

Score one for the Vulcan. McCoy scowled at the device in his hand then locked eyes with his "patient" lounging on the chaise.

"There's not a single thing wrong with you, is there?" The tricorder reinforced Spock's statement. Aleyah's innocent act had almost fooled him, and damn if Spock figured it out before he did.

"There isn't, Dr. McCoy?" Her hand lightly massaged her forehead in a circular motion, words dripping too sweetly from her voice.

"You tell me." McCoy gritted his teeth. Involving Dr. Jahnas? Of all the idiotic things Jim could do - again.

"Dr. Jahnas, we will address your involvement in this incident later," Spock said. "I have a matter more pressing which demands my immediate attention." 

"I am saddened for Captain Kirk, seeing how he could not trust either of his best friends," Aleyah looked at her hands, speaking in a low tone.

"We are more concerned for his well-being-"

"And he's acting in the best interest of his crew." She lifted her chin. "We all know that he will go to any length to do what he believes to be right, and he had to bypass the both of you to get-"

"That is enough, Dr. Jahnas," Spock said. "You are behaving in an insubordinate manner, and I wish to know why you feigned distress."

Aleyah sighed. "He wanted to conduct a discrete unofficial investigation and asked me to create a diversion after the banquet ended to cover his exit."

"I must speak with Prince Lequa. In my brief absence, it would serve you well to inform Dr. McCoy of any other vital information you have concerning Captain Kirk's whereabouts, Dr. Jahnas."

Spock turned on his heel to update the prince, leaving the confined area that the Re'an members had provided them for privacy.

McCoy raised an eyebrow and waited. Aleyah huffed a sigh, looking most resigned. "I should also tell you that he's specifically looking for the petite Re'an warrior. Soona is her name."

"Soona was taken to the facility for rehabilitation," McCoy muttered under his breath.

"The captain insists that he saw her this afternoon. Here."

McCoy had no doubt Jim saw her, but whether it was real or not was a different question. "You don't understand the situation, Dr. Jahnas. He had no business involving you."

Aleyah's eyes sparked with anger. "I made my own decision to help him, and I think I may understand more than you realize, Dr. McCoy."

"What do you mean?"

Aleyah sat up on the chaise, flipping her hair behind her shoulders. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

Hadn't she already? McCoy scowled, but nodded.

"Gaila wasn't always tight-lipped regarding Kirk, and I haven't been oblivious to the changes in his behavior. How could you abandon him when he needed you most?"

McCoy's head dropped into his hands. If only this could be a bad, bad dream.

"Dr. McCoy." Spock's voice came from behind. Princess Eoksa stood with him.

"Yes, Spock." McCoy scowled.

"It has been brought to my attention that Princess Eoksa was already concerned about our captain. Combined with this recent incident, a search has commenced."

McCoy's heart sank. With that simple declaration, all the diplomacy that they'd worked so hard to achieve was voided. He couldn't help but curse himself for allowing Jim to return to Re'an in such a vulnerable and mentally unstable condition. It was completely his fault and had been from the beginning. No one else was to blame.

"As I informed the commander, doctor," the princess took a tremulous breath, "Captain Kirk experienced distress earlier near our gardens. Your team may start their search there, if you'd like."

* * *

 

Once he escaped from under the decisive and watchful eye of his first officer, Jim's initial action was to find a disguise. He confiscated one of the white hooded robes he observed hanging very conveniently in the hallway outside the banquet room. Appropriately dressed, he inched down one of the many palace hallways. Distracted, he still felt compelled to prove that he wasn't going crazy. He dragged his body for another ten yards before stopping. He frowned, mulling over one of the mysteries of Re'an V and specifically everything he understood about the image on the missile.

Aleyah's research revealed that it wasn't merely a creature pictured on the missile, but two Re'an beings. They now determined that one was performing a mind meld on the other and that the seated one had a snake around his shoulders. The snake intrigued Jim as it was similar to the one which had wrapped him. He leaned heavily against the wall, still unable to determine why the image felt so important to him. It was meaningful to the Re'an beings, that much he knew, but they never discussed their mind melds with outsiders. That in and of itself was a mystery. He breathed deeply in attempt to gather strength to continue. Having ignored his fatigue for weeks, his reserves were now gone, adrenaline lacking.

In hindsight, he shouldn't have been surprised that his observational skills were rather diminished.

"Soona." Jim tilted his head and gazed at her. "You are here."

She's real. This was real. It had to be. Her scent, a strangely comforting mixture of sweat and snake, wafted towards him as he edged nearer. Her chest rose and fell heavily, just like his. Several strands of her hair were lifted gently by the draft sneaking past them. Her eyes were hued and shaped like every other Re'an's eyes, but something about them was different. So close to her now, he inspected the wrinkled, faintly red skin tissue around the edges of her eyes. His skin prickled.

"You are searching for something," she said evenly. "All you need to do is ask."

"I want the truth. You committed a crime and were charged by Prince Lequa. Why are you here?"

"I did no wrong."

"You kidnapped innocent children."

"I am a hunter for my people."

"A hunter of what?"

"Resources," she shrugged. "What we need to live."

"You speak as if-"

"We do what we must to survive, for the benefit of the majority. It's a natural process here."

A wave of nausea billowed. _Just like Tarsus._ He clenched his jaw, his nails digging into the palms of his tightly fisted hands to fight the memories.

"That upsets you," she said matter-of-factly. "It is just like he said. How curious. It doesn't have to be that way."

Confused, Jim tripped aimlessly over all she said - _what was curious? being upset? surviving?_ \- so he asked the question that he wanted to ask in the first place. "Your people are peaceful. How could endangering children be acceptable?"

She shifted into a defensive stance. "They were never endangered," she hissed before twisting around and fleeing through an archway. As the snake scent drifted away, Jim didn't think twice before following.

* * *

 

Spock ordered the security team to search the palace for the missing captain alongside the Re'an guards while he and the away team returned to the site which had triggered Jim's earlier agitation. Hoping to uncover some clue to Jim's behavior, Spock followed Prince Lequa and the two guards into their sacred room. Sulu, Dr. Jahnas, and Uhura accompanied them as well. Only McCoy waited outside the vined doors, wishing he would simply spy Jim in the corridor. Where was he, if not here? If Jim was indeed so curious, he would have reached this location before the team.

Feeling useless, McCoy lingered as long as he could. He was the last one inside - and the first to see the doors being slammed shut and locked behind them.

"Son of a bitch," McCoy snarled at Lequa. "What the hell is this? Where the hell is Jim?"

McCoy lunged for the prince, unmindful of the spears the guards withdrew from their cloaks.

"I would step away," Lequa's frigid voice halted McCoy's attack. The spears paused mere inches away from McCoy's chest as Spock and Sulu restrained him. With great difficulty, the doctor clenched his hands but stepped back. "You shall see your captain, I promise. As long as you cooperate."

"I demand that you release us." Spock said.

"I fear I cannot." Prince Lequa strolled towards the other end of the room, stopping after several meters. "Your captain will want to see our treasured display of animals. I must apologize to him once he arrives. We postponed it long enough, but that is not all our fault. We completely expected your captain to see the animals the very night my children were kidnapped. However, well...your captain behaved contrary to what we expected."

"Here? The creatures are here?" McCoy looked at Lequa and raised his voice in disbelief.

Lequa pressed a hidden button on the floor with his foot. "Of course. I suggest that you do not make any sudden movements. There are creatures you have not studied. Some have been hidden from you until now, and some of those are temperamental and most poisonous. Even...deadly."

The floor shifted, the illusion of a white, spartan room disappearing into a mass of towering green and brown. The walls swirled once around them, as creatures of feather and scales in a whirl of colors and crescendo of cries seemingly appeared out of thin air. It would be a magnificent display if not for the claustrophobia McCoy suddenly experienced and the dread carving itself deep in the pit of his stomach.

 _Jim had been right._ Jim had been right - and McCoy had failed him yet another time. Jim had been right - and now their captain was alone.

"Where is our captain?" Spock asked evenly.

"He is on his way providing Soona has done her job correctly."

"Soona?" Aleyah said with alarm. "But she's..."

"...a renegade," Spock finished, with hushed anger in his eyes.

"Yes," Lequa stated. "She has been called that in the past. She is no more a renegade than you or I."

"Soona kidnapped your children." Spock enunciated each syllable.

Lequa otherwise occupied, McCoy glanced sideways at Uhura, hoping that she'd been able to somehow send a signal to the Enterprise. She pursed her lips in response. Sulu's hands clenched by his side, empty without his phaser. McCoy's worry stirred. He'd not even noticed that Sulu had been disarmed as well as Spock.

"Ah, yes. So she did," Lequa said, his affirmation too casual and failing to convince McCoy that the prince even cared.

"What reasonable explanation could you possibly provide for allowing your children's kidnapper-" A guard pressed his spear against McCoy's side as a warning, silencing him.

Lequa waved a hand. "No more questions. The time has come and now...Unfortunately for you and your team, I imagine the lieutenant was unable to establish a connection." The prince's voice faded as a predatorial grin spread across his face.

"Imprisoning us here and delaying our return to the Enterprise will as effectively communicate our situation as Lieutenant Uhura's transmission would have done," Spock challenged.

Lequa shrugged and strode to an apparent path through the depths of overgrowth. "Our shields are raised and your transporter is inoperational - and will remain that way until we get what we need."

"And what is that?" McCoy growled, refusing to budge as the guards' spears nudged them along towards the snakes. No way in hell was he going to make friends with these poisonous creatures.

"Dr. McCoy, to all who see us, we are a peaceful race but we require resources to remain that way. You would not understand, but those resources are vital to our way life and are not available here any more. It has, unfortunately, become precarious to live here and so quickly after our return, too."

Return? The Re'an had been living on this planet for only two decades. McCoy glanced at Spock, wishing immediately that he hadn't. Dread filled the Vulcan's face; he knew something that the doctor did not.

"Fortunately, the timely arrival of someone with the necessary resources will help us address that problem. The ones who help us must remain with us, and it appears that in this particular case that this one will acclimate himself to our ways without complication." Lequa, sounding altogether too pleased with himself, sent them a smile just as smug.

Thick, thorny vines obstructed their view of the locked doors behind them and escape through the foliage was futile with poisonous snakes barring the way. McCoy was almost certain he didn't want to confirm his guess of "who" had arrived. But he swallowed and dared to ask the question reflected in the eyes of his team, "And who might that be?"

"Your captain."

"And we are the bait," Sulu muttered.

"This is the second time you have attempted to ensnare him. The kidnapping was staged. You anticpated him entering this room at that time." Spock arched an eyebrow.

"So it would seem." The prince's bored tone stirred the anger within McCoy. "So it would seem."

McCoy glared in contempt. _No. No, you can't take Jim from us. No._ With a growl and all of the despair that losing his friend the past weeks had given him, he tore away from Spock's lightning reflexes. "No!"

In a blinding rage, he grabbed the spear with his hand, pushing it away and ignoring the prompt slice of his palm. Fueled by his emotional heartache, he punched the first guard, who fell to the floor. Ready again, he extended his other arm but Spock was already there, bruising McCoy's arms as he restrained him.

"Dr. McCoy," Spock commanded brusquely, "Stand down. It is not the time to fight."

McCoy was dragged back, stunned at himself that he'd lost control. Jim wouldn't have wanted him to do that. It had been a foolish, foolish move.

"I would listen to the commander if I were you, doctor." Lequa pointed a phaser at Uhura. "Not only am I unafraid to use this weapon, but also your captain's life is at stake. The guards outside this room have orders to kill him if you harm us and do not cooperate. It would be a great loss for us but your cooperation is necessary."

Another growl escaped from McCoy but Lequa, unperturbed by the additional outburst, motioned to the creatures on the ground with his other hand. The snakes McCoy had tried to avoid slithered closer. Spock released his hold on the doctor and stepped in front of Uhura as more creatures joined in the promenade. McCoy raised his hand to wipe his forehead. Blood streaked down his hand. Blinking in shock that he'd ignored such a wound, he took off his command shirt, leaving the black underneath, and pressed it against his sliced palm. His breathing remained erratic as his mind filled with a hundred scenarios of Jim falling right into the Re'an prince's deceitful hands.

"Why are you doing this?" Spock asked quietly.

"Our lives here are much like that of an hourglass. Tip it over and we have only that much time left before peace is vanished and violence enters the minds of our people. They will act upon that violence. It will be impossible to subdue them. Normally, mere memories of others' anguished pasts dispel that evil urge. We depend on resources and sometimes, we admit to stripping too much away- making it impossible for us to return the resource." Lequa paused. "That is the reason why we left earlier. It was becoming noticeable to those species around us. They were suspicious. We take, but we cannot give back what we take. So we returned to our former home, but alas, we cannot find species here with the resources we need either. Until you arrived."

"You are touch telepaths. The symbol on the missile represents this, one's hands resting on another's forehead. You require the memories that others have to keep your species docile. Memory is your resource." Spock paused. "People are your resource."

McCoy felt his face drain of color and a tingling sensation running from his wounded hand and up his arm. He locked his legs, refusing to keel over.

"But you are only capable of touch telepathic abilities between members your own species," Spock continued. "How will you obtain the captain's memories?"

"Yes, as you already know, we are touch telepaths. Our most valuable sacred process, finding and melding with one who has the memories we need, is an ancient ritual. We have a chosen one who is the only one capable of seeking out such memories in another species. And once he melds with the memory resource, our hold on the being is even stronger. Our chosen one will then share those memories with all of us and our planet will be at peace once more." Lequa sighed and shook his head. McCoy blinked, the world encircling him in slow motion. "As long as that missile was in your hands, I knew it would arouse suspicion, Commander."

"How did you know he has what you need? Perhaps he is not as valuable to you as you believe."

Lequa flinched as if Spock's challenge was a slap to his face. "Our ways may be ancient and mysterious, but they are foolproof."

"He will not cooperate," Spock said with confidence.

McCoy opened his mouth to agree for once with the hobgoblin, but darkness crowded. His face heated, his mind filling with the terrible and horrid thought of Jim stuck on this cursed planet believing his best friend had abandoned him.

"Oh, but I am most certain he will," Lequa said smoothly as the doctor collapsed in a heap, his face mere centimeters from the invading snakes he'd wished to avoid.


	14. Chapter 14

Now in the sweltering belly of the garden, Jim shrugged off the heavy robe, deciding the lush foliage was ample camouflage. With the extra weight gone, he chased after the renegade as she darted away unhindered by her short stature. Despite being so petite Soona was incredibly agile. All he saw as she turned the corner around a blossoming bush were her bare, blue feet.

An unexpected surge of adrenaline rushed through him and Jim charged. He turned left in an aisle parallel to hers. The move well-staged, this time it was his turn to surprise her as he crossed the barrier of brush, thorns tearing his uniform in the process. Her muscles flexed under his grip but she lurched to a stop, hair whipping around her face.

"Let go of me," she hissed.

He stared down at her, her petite size throwing him again. "Soona, I can't allow you to run free. You kidnapped Prince Lequa's children and were charged by the prince himself."

"I did no harm, I told you."

"Good men and women were killed," he gritted. She flinched but made no apology. "I demand an explanation for your presence here and I'll find it whether you tell me or not, Soona."

"You do not have the understanding, but you will." Her eyes glistened with emotion. She leaned forward, breath hovering beside his cheek. Jim's fingers involuntarily loosened on her arm. Only a portion of her eyes were full of life, the other part near the scarring had unnatural sheen, her skin smoothed too perfectly. He could see this now. Although peach colored, her eyes were not Re'an eyes. "Follow me, and I'll show you."

"You...you are..."

 _You are...not Re'an,_ Jim wanted to say but there it was again. The scent of snake. The world stopped and Jim inched his face forward. He bent his head, stopped a hairsbreadth from her neck, and breathed deeply where the scent was stronger. She arched her neck and his face pressed against it. As he breathed in her skin, his mind opened. The dark cloud that had hung over his head parted, leaving him feeling freer and lighter than he had for months. How many times over the past months had he longed for the darkness to leave him? He'd been desperate for an escape and now, here it was. He smiled in contentment and breathed again.

"Where are they, Soona?" The whisper fell despairingly from his lips. His fingers clamped around her wrist. He had to see the snakes. "Where," he growled deeply into her skin.

"Where is...who?" Her whisper taunted him with its ambiguity. "Your crew, Captain- would you like to see your crew?"

"My...crew..." Why would she ask him that? His crew was safe enjoying Re'an hospitality in the banquet hall. A voice in his head jeered they probably hadn't even noticed that he'd left. Besides, they hadn't wanted him to come in the first place. "No...the snakes...wait..."

"Follow me," she taunted and swirled away in a dance of silence.

 

* * *

 

Uhura rested McCoy's head on her lap, looking on helplessly as Prince Lequa and his guards slipped through the overgrowth in the room and past each creature without effort or fear. Poisoned tip, Lequa had smiled at them, and not much time. She exchanged a worried look with Sulu who placed the doctor's hand against his chest and above his heart. McCoy needed care - now. There had to be a door there, and if they could somehow...

Uhura's sigh morphed into a frustrated growl. There was no way they could slip past those creatures themselves, unless they killed them.

She said as much to Spock in her concern for McCoy, and Aleyah's eyes widened.

"No, you can't do that!" the xenozoologist protested. "The animals here are far too sacred to the Re'an and far too unique in the universe - killing them would be tantamount to an act of war. Even if we wanted to kill them, we have no weapons and no knowledge of what it takes to do that."

Spock stood as a silent protector, closest to the creatures in his attempt to keep his crew safe. Sulu stood as well. The creatures maintained their distance from the small group, circling them repeatedly. The significance of the monotonous pattern was lost on the Enterprise crew. Uhura shot Spock a wary glance, wanting him to offer an explanation. But he said nothing as he watched the creatures' endless movements.

"Jim...forgive me...'m sorry...didn't mean... to throw you out," McCoy's tortured whispers came from cracked, bleeding lips. "'m sorry...sorry..."

"Shh," Uhura hushed him, stroking the pale and fevered cheek of the doctor. McCoy had been mumbling those exact words in his semi-conscious state since Lequa had left them. The one time he added the word "sickbay" to his delirious murmurs Uhura had glanced at Spock in dismay. That single word was enough for her to deduce the depths of the grievance McCoy had committed against Jim. "Spock, he needs medical care from the Enterprise now."

"Jim will come," Spock stated.

Uhura stared at him. One of their friends lay dying in her arms - did they really want another one to walk into the trap?

McCoy's eyes peeled opened for the first time since he fell. "What...happened...where's..."

"You have been poisoned, doctor, by the lethal tip of the spear," Spock said. "At the present, your symptoms are shortness of breath and increased body temperature. Judging by your unrest and outbursts during the time you were unconsciousness, I estimate that you are experiencing severe pain. We do not know the location of the captain, but Prince Lequa has indeed informed us that the captain will be joining us in this room shortly."

"No," McCoy whispered.. "Help me get up. Jim...he can't..."

"Stay down," Uhura ordered the stubborn doctor. Sulu moved down beside McCoy and gently held a hand against the doctor's chest to keep him from trying to rise. "You need to save all your strength, Dr. McCoy, for the time we figure a way out of here."

"How mu...how much...time."

"If the captain arrives and he cooperates, the Re'an will give us an antidote and send us to the Enterprise," Spock said evenly.

"Time?" McCoy growled.

Uhura swallowed, but refused to reveal her deeply rooted concern. "Two hours." At most, she failed to clarify.

McCoy's head fell back onto Uhura's lap. His eyes fluttered shut effortlessly. "You know...he'll...cooperate."

Spock nodded, attention still fixed upon the Re'an creatures. "To save your life, I have no doubt."

"You can't...let 'im."

 

* * *

 

 

Jim brushed aside the vine at his shoulder and stood breathless at the entrance of what had to be the sacred room of the Re'an. He reached out to touch another vine, relishing in the satisfaction that he'd been correct about this room and therefore not losing his grip on reality. In his contentment, he completely forgot to wonder if Soona already entered the room this way.

He wasn't crazy. He wasn't...Jim expelled a breath. He tipped his forehead and rested against the door.

"They are waiting for you."

"Soona?" He peered down the cramped brushy aisles, left and right, but saw no sight of her.

"Go in. What you want is in there," she said from his left, shimmying out from behind a narrow fruited tree.

"Will you show me?" he blurted out. Far be it from him not to share the experience.

She crossed the dozen meters over to him and obliged. Once inside, he stared in subdued delight, wanting to tell her to stop so he could revel in watching and listening to what he'd craved since first hearing their cries. She continued along a narrow path through the brush. Jim followed both her and the threads of light pointing the way to a clearing at the far end of the room.

Jim halted in his tracks.

"Bones?" He croaked, blinking rapidly from Spock, down to McCoy on the floor, and to the fierce but incredible display of Re'an snakes.

Confused, he barely registered that a figure now stood beside him. Soona, possibly, he vaguely hazarded. Not just possibly, but probably, seeing that none of his crew had moved a muscle. Struggling to clear his foggy thoughts, he furrowed his brow. Why had he followed her here aimlessly? He knew better, but something had overcome him. What, Jim did not know. 

"What...what are you doing in here? Spock?" Jim swallowed and glanced over at Bones, who lay unresponsive on the floor. Scared out of his wits for the doctor, he took a step forward - and faltered. A sea of snakes moved as a continuous wave towards his crew. Realizing that the snakes stopped when he stopped, Jim saw the better choice - _again, since they were at odds, would they ever forgive each other?_ \- was to remain far from his best friend. He exhaled a short breath. "What's wrong with Bones?"

"The doctor has been poisoned. Prince Lequa informs us that it is lethal, but that they will supply us with the antidote if you cooperate with their demands."

"What?" Jim snapped in disbelief. He turned his head to Soona. "Get them out of here."

"Only you can rescue them. The doors before you are locked. They may exit through the garden way..." She paused and peered at him. "But Prince Lequa insists that you stay."

"Tell him I will stay." It was the only choice.

"No, Jim," Spock argued.

"I'll stay, Soona. Just get them out," he ordered. It didn't matter to him that he'd been pulled from command. His crew was endangered and he knew what he had to do. He stepped forward, cautious as each step he took forward led the snakes towards his crew. Frustrated, he glared at the warrior. "I said, get them out!"

"You must do this alone." Soona backed into the brush, a look in her eyes that he could not decipher. "I'm sorry."

"No," he reached for her hand but she'd disappeared behind a series of widely trunked trees. "Soona!"

He whipped his head back around, for a moment breathless as he realized McCoy's skin pallor. "How much time does he have?"

"If he continues to decline at the present rate, I estimate a maximum of one hour thirty-two minutes.," Spock said tersely, eyes fixed on the wall of snakes. "We cannot move towards the exit."

"Okay," Jim's gaze darted along the floor. "Okay. It seems that if I move closer to you, so do they. So, listen. I'll move to the other side. It should make a path."

"Jim, there are other details I must explain-"

"Start moving, Spock. Get them out of here." Jim managed to keep his tone neutral until he noticed one of the largest snakes he'd ever seen appearing from the thick of the trees and brush. It barreled over the sea of snakes themselves, heading straight towards him. "Shit. Awww... _shit_."

"Stay calm, Captain."

"Shit." Jim hissed.

"Captain, you must remain calm."

"Calm, right. With a hundred snakes at my feet and one the size of a mammoth coming straight for me." He laughed shakily but managed two steps to the right before said mammoth came to his boots. Jim couldn't look up, couldn't make himself for fear he'd make a sudden movement and startle the snakes into a lethal chain reaction. "Are you away from the snakes yet?"

Spock held the doctor's deadweight in his arms. "Our progress is slow but acceptable."

Jim lifted one of his boots and took a slow, deliberate step to the side. As he prepared to slide another step, the head of the mammoth slipped onto his boot and immediately coiled its body around his ankle. He looked in dismay as it hooked its tail around his other foot, trapping him.

"Captain, you cannot move," Spock's voice raised. Jim could feel the worried vibes coming from the Vulcan, and that, in turn, promptly caused Jim's heart to race.

"Dammit, I know, I know." Jim swallowed nervously, unprepared for the fight or flight reaction that had hit him. Another pair of snakes joined the first by coiling around his legs and still another slithered up his torso. Unlike the one that had been wrapped around him days ago, these behaved aggressively. "I know. Just get to safety. Bones needs their help."

"I will come back for you."

"No," Jim clenched his jaw. "You can't. It's too dangerous."

"I can re-"

"Spock, you know it's illogical to come back for me! The damn snakes want me. Not you!" He snapped. 

"Jim?"

"I've felt their pull...ever since...ever since we arrived at Re'an V," Jim reluctantly admitted. "Go, Spock. Just go!"

Spock nodded stiffly and led the others away with caution, the fact that Jim was no longer in command having no affect on Jim's words or Spock's actions. Other snakes followed the lead of the first four and coiled around Jim's body. He straightened, Lequa's words that the creatures would not hurt him coming to the surface. Remaining calm was the key to his crew's survival. He evened his breaths and soon the awe for the creatures he'd had days before enveloped him. His crew were halfway to the thicker, enveloping foliage of the room when Bones chose to awaken.

"Jim," Bones mumbled, peering at him through heavy lidded eyes. "What the hell...is going on."

"A walk in the park, Bones. With snakes." He tried to laugh for their sake, to keep them moving to safety, but the scales of the larger snake swept across his shoulders and neck. The laughter died in his throat when he saw the concern growing on their faces. "It happened before, Bones. Not to worry."

"A half-dozen snakes...wrapped around you...sure, pal," Bones said weakly.

"It was only one, actually, that time. Piece of cake," Jim swallowed, fighting to keep his words light-hearted for Bones' sake.

"It happened before?" Bones looked at him in disbelief. 

"That is how the Re'an knew of your past, when the snake coiled around you at the banquet," Spock said. "It is how they knew you were the one they needed."

"What?" Bones' eyes widened at Jim. "The snakes are goddamn fortune tellers?"

"On the contrary, doctor. The snakes do not predict the future, but rather communicate the past. According to Prince Lequa, these creatures have the ability to seek out beings with powerful memories, memories vital to the Re'an's ability maintaining their culture of peace. That is how they have determined that Jim possesses these memories and that they need him-"

"Hold on, Spock. What do you mean, how they knew I was the one they needed? The Re'an need me?" Jim asked incredulously.

"They find those whose violent or troubled memories make them stronger. They will then meld with them to ward off violence within their society. They need your memories to keep peace amongst them, Jim."

"My memories," Jim scoffed but then, it clicked. Of course. The drawing on the missile...a mind meld...They need...memories...Of his past that he couldn't even... "My damn memories..."

"Jim, look at me, please."

Jim could not gather the emotional willpower to obey Bones' whispered plea. Instead, he gave a harsh laugh, and an even harsher one as he fully comprehended his situation: at least six writhing snakes covered his body. He wished that he had not been distracted by whatever it was that the Re'an's had on him. His usually lightning quick instincts had failed him; if only he had been thinking clearly he might have figured things out faster. Now he could barely think of anything but the snakes clenching around his arms and draping over him like a wriggling cloak. The body of one larger snake nudged his neck until he was forced to tilt his head back.

"Isn't this what you wanted, Bones? For James T. Kirk to face his past?" He resorted to cruel taunts. Bones would see through his bluffs, but for once he was truly petrified. Not by the snakes, not by what they would do to him. But by the very real possibility that Bones could die if he didn't succeed. Even if Bones did survive, Jim had no idea what the Re'an had planned for either of them. Jim was resourceful but the Re'ans' trickery had been brilliant.

"No, Jim. That's not-"

"It isn't?" He barked out a laugh. "Finally, I have to do what you wanted me to. I have no choice."

"This wasn't...what I had...in mind..." McCoy pleaded.

Jim opened his mouth to utter another dismal comment, but swift movement from Dr. Jahnas distracted him.

"Aleyah," Jim hissed, utterly dismayed that she put her life on the line and placed herself between the snakes and the other crew members. "What are you doing?"

"You said they sense strength of spirit? From one's past?" Her eyes darted wildly from one writhing snake to the next. "Damn time that I see if my years of captured and forced enslavement are worth anything. You can't do this alone. Did you see how they begun creeping over here again? There are too many."

"No, Aleyah..." Jim fearfully saw only a poor end to her involvement.

"Too late, Captain." She gritted. "I can do this. It's my duty. I'm used to these creatures, after all."

It was too late, seeing a snake had already slipped around her legs, locking her into a hold much as they had Jim. "Whatever you do, Aleyah stay calm," Jim tried to assure her, indicating with his head for Spock to continue with the others.

"I am," she said, but her chest was heaving and the wild look in her eyes was as strong as before.

"Aleyah, take a deep breath. They'll sense your fear."

"I got it." She clenched her eyes shut. Jim commended her bravery but had she realized the sacrifice she had made?

"Aleyah," he said gently, "They can't come back for us."

"I know, Captain."

"Spock, if you're able to get to the Enterprise, do it. If I don't contact you within twenty-four hours, continue on with the five-year mission."

"The hell we're leaving you," McCoy weakly said.

"That is unacceptable," Spock protested.

"The Re'an were able to move undetected through space twenty years ago, Spock. You know that they are most likely to have other secrets. We've already lost too many crew and I don't want anyone else endangered. If I cooperate and am able to find a way to escape somehow, we will," Jim softened his tone, hoping they wouldn't waste any more time. "But you have to get out of here now."

 _For Bones,_ he silently pleaded.

"I will keep them safe."

"Spock...thank you. Now, just go." He winced, unable to disguise the subtle crack of his voice. "Please."

It was the logical thing to do and therefore, Spock could not refuse his order. The snakes had ensnared him and that is what the Re'an had wanted all along.

"Jim, please." The desperation in Bones' voice tugged his fractured heart, and with a mind of their own Jim's eyes met those of the doctor.

Jim didn't know if he would ever see them again and his friends' departure slugged him in his stomach. He tried to smile and belatedly realized that his mouth hadn't moved at all, as if it were full with thick cotton. His last view of the escaping crew and Bones' worried expression would haunt him for the rest of his days - and he would never forgive himself for his purely selfish silence. Even when the time was right, he couldn't manage to say the appropriate things. In this case, goodbye.

Perhaps it didn't matter that words failed him now, especially when it came to Bones. Their goodbyes had been effectively said when they had fought on the ship. The hole in his heart was already there and had been for a long time.

Any words he could possibly offer Bones as an apology would never suffice. In Jim's mind, it was too late. He chose instead to simply watch as they all disappeared, including the one he wished he could know better - and the one who he had once called his best friend.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is the second of two chapters posted today so please read 14 first. Warning for the last scene - contains a slightly dark plot point. 
> 
> I will post more tomorrow. :)

Vines criss-crossed from floor to ceiling, making the away team's progress painful and slow. Spock's gaze bored holes into them, as if that alone would clear the way. From the little he could see through the gaps in the tangled vines, the back door stood a dozen meters away. Gripping the prickly foliage about to tear the doctor's skin, Spock shielded McCoy, more or less allowing the menacing brush to lacerate him instead of the human as he pushed forward. Spock's blood dripped and spilled sporadically on the moss covered path. He paid no heed to the injuries or creatures, not even to the squawking bird by his ears whose wings came too close and scraped his skin slowly and surely like a knife.

Spock gritted his teeth against the sharp pains. Those were insignificant wounds and were nothing compared to what the doctor and captain faced. They arrived at the door, but he felt no relief. They were merely transitioning from one difficulty to the next, as he anticipated that Lequa's guards would greet them on the other side. The ancient style doorknob tantalized Spock, offering a way out of their current predicament but the door refused to budge.

"You've got to be kidding me. Locked?" Sulu huffed, wiping the sweat of his brow. Spock observed both Sulu and Uhura's appearances, quickly noting that the onslaught of Re'an thorny brush and aggressive creatures had not caused extensive injuries to either of the lieutenants.

Without answering the helmsman, Spock carefully deposited the unconscious but wheezing doctor on the only clear section of ground and stepped back. He propelled himself forward and rammed his shoulder into the door.

"Spock!" Uhura cried.

He ignored her. Instead, he rammed his shoulder again, vaguely considering the possible contusions he was self-inflicting, and pushed with all his strength. The door opened with a solid grunt from Spock. Within seconds, they were stepping out into the garden. Spock straightened and shifted the body in his arms. The unconscious human was no physical burden but he was rather unsettled by the five pairs of peach eyes staring down their spears at them.

"He has agreed." Spock said to Lequa, finding no benefit in wasting time. "Now fulfill your part of the agreement. Dr. McCoy requires the prompt administration of the antidote."

"Hmm," Lequa brought a hand to his chin. "Indeed, I will. Guards, please escort Commander Spock and Dr. McCoy to their cell."

A hushed gasp came from Uhura. Sulu's jaw clenched.

"That is not part of the agreement," Spock arched an eyebrow, feigning displeasure. In truth, he wished to remain as close to Jim as possible during the melding process, either to calculate a way for them to escape or plea the case to immediately repair the mental damage done to the captain once they were finished - and then escape. His bond with Uhura would provide a way for them to communicate once he found more answers.

"Neither was Dr. Jahnas' involvement with the snakes," Lequa tossed back.

"You left us in a most precarious situation."

"Your captain resolved the situation, did he not?"

Spock's fury rose to an incomprehensible level. His captain was in the hands of a deceitful species who would use him. Even worse, Spock could not yet determine the true alteration of the captain once the Re'an were finished with him. "I demand that you hold to our agreement."

"You and the doctor will stay. As will Dr. Jahnas."

"That is unacceptable."

"It is perfectly acceptable if you wish for Dr. McCoy to survive. Dr. Jahnas has shown us that she will be helpful to us as well. I will allow you to remain for the doctor's sake, as you will need to administer the antidote to him several times over the next hour. He should not be moved until he has received three dosages. Or would you prefer us to care for him by ourselves?"

"That would be most illogical," Spock said slowly. "I will stay. I demand that Lieutenants Uhura and Sulu be returned to the Enterprise immediately."

Lequa smiled. "As you wish."

* * *

 

Jim was barely aware of the passing time. Half an hour, an hour, or perhaps more had elapsed since the Enterprise crew had left, but it didn't really matter exactly how long it had been. The only thing that mattered was that no one had come to rescue them. He had spent the time doing everything conceivable to calm Aleyah, but the xenozoologist now showed signs of breaking.

"Why aren't they here?" She whispered.

"I imagine they are taking care of Dr. McCoy first." At least Jim hoped they were, barring any other demands the Re'an would make on his crew.

"Jim," Aleyah's pitiful voice interrupted his thoughts. "I can't do this."

"Yes, you can," Jim quickly affirmed. She'd begun to tremble the second that the snakes' hissing had increased around her. "You are a strong woman, Aleyah. You can do this. I'll find a way out of this, I promise."

"I'm scared. I didn't think I would be, but..." Wide-eyed, her eyes grew frantic. "I...I don't like...them on me. They're so strong."

"But so are you. Aleyah. Take a deep breath, relax your muscles, and they will loosen their hold." They had for him, and now Jim was so relaxed that he had a difficult time understanding Aleyah's fear. 

"I'm scared, Jim." Her eyes reached for him.

"Don't be. I'm here with you. I'm not going anywhere," he said gently. He'd have to take her mind elsewhere, away from Re'an V and even the Enterprise. Maybe he could talk about something they had in common. "Talk to me. Tell me about those times you had with Gaila at the Academy."

"Yes." Her eyes clenched shut. "She and I were a little crazy...Uhura, sometimes, too."

"You two got yourself in all sorts of trouble." Jim himself had been in the middle of some of it at times.

"Gaila...she loved you, Jim."

Jim's eyes softened without thinking. "Aleyah..."

"She loved you because you were crazy stubborn, and broken and strong, just like she was," she took a ragged breath. "And even though she knew neither of you would ever take it to another level and you wouldn't dare allow yourself to fall in love with someone...she loved you."

Jim swallowed. He'd known that, heard it from Gaila's own lips. He didn't want to reminisce on this particular subject but he couldn't afford not to, either. What could be the harm? "And I...loved her," he said honestly.

Her eyes flipped open in surprise. "Captain."

He gave her a small smile, maybe even with a ghostly hint of the emotional pain he'd felt after he had physically recovered from defeating Nero and being strangled by Spock as well as his part in emotionally compromising the commander. Combined with the recent devastation of a beloved friendship, it may very well have been a tragic smile. "I just..." _Didn't realize it until it was too late._ "I have...a hard time expressing my...affection." He almost cringed when words he and Bones shared in sickbay ran through his mind.

"So say most men. Maybe when the time comes again...for love...you won't find it so hard to keep your feelings to yourself?"

Jim fell silent. Gaila's death had been only one of the innumerable losses that terrible day but it was one that he felt to this present day. Despite his best intentions, he had made countless mistakes in their relationship that he could never repair. Falling in love had hurt, and he did not think he could ever do it again. Then again, it was highly unlikely just by virtue of being on a ship in the middle of deep space. He had come to love Bones as a brother, even opening up and trusting the doctor more than he had ever trusted before. He trusted Spock and was closer to him now than before - but Jim felt that he had failed this friend, too. Just as he had made mistakes and hurt Gaila, he had gone and hurt Bones, and even worse, had refused to attempt to fix their broken friendship. _Romantic love?_ he silently scoffed. He'd still be an utter failure at that.

A distinct hiss from a snake brought Jim back, scattering his thoughts of Gaila's death and the last glimpse of Bones' deathly pallor.

Jim answered Aleyah with a simple, "I don't know," but in reality he did know. He wanted an impossible miracle more than anything. He wanted his best friend returned to him and wanted it done without remembering all that happened to him on Tarsus IV and absolutely without opening the Pandora's box that were his feelings. Once more it seemed that the universe mocked his desires. In all probability he had seen his best friend for the last time and would have to re-live the worst time in his life alone and full of regret.

He continued. "I don't think that'll happen for..." He clamped his mouth shut as the doors behind them creaked open.

The Re'an had returned. Jim sent a worried glance at Aleyah. She'd grown anxious again - face flushed, breathing erratic and eyes overly wide - in a matter of seconds.

"You'll be out of here in no time, Aleyah," he whispered before the hems of Prince Lequa's robes brushed across the room's floor.

"Ah, Captain Kirk."

"Prince Lequa." Jim refused to move a muscle and, in particular, he refused to nod or bow his head as he normally would in greeting.

"You are upset," Lequa's eyes narrowed. "I suppose I can understand your feelings at the moment. However, they will change."

Lequa motioned to the guards and they immediately walked to Jim. Within seconds, they were removing the snakes from his body and handling the reptiles themselves. As the last one was taken from him, Jim clenched his hands into fists, wanting the creatures back. Jim instantly recoiled at his bizarre thought. Still, he could not tear his eyes away from the writhing creature. He cocked his head. It wasn't writhing. In fact, Jim found it...comforting.

"Is something wrong, captain?" Lequa's voice rolled over him.

Jim's face warmed and he shook his head. "No. I..." He paused and frowned as he stared at Aleyah. Her eyes were wet, her body obviously shaking under the burden of snakes. "Please, will you remove the snakes from Dr. Jahnas?"

"We must hurry. You must continue your end of the bargain for us to continue administering the venom's antidote to your doctor."

Two guards came to either side of Jim and grabbed his arms, forcing him to take several steps before Jim realized they'd not assisted Aleyah.

"No," he said harshly. He dug his heels into the floor. "Dr. Jahnas -"

"Was not a part of the bargain."

"But, she is...the snakes came to her." Jim searched for any excuse to convince them to wrench the snakes off her. "You can use her memories, too."

"True, but at the moment we are only prepared for one, and the melding ceremony only requires one."

"She was forced to help protect my crew from the snakes. Please, let her go."

"Jim?" Aleyah's pitiful voice shook his soul.

"Please," Jim begged. "I am not leaving her."

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice, Young Kirk. She will be used for a different purpose." Lequa turned his back to Aleyah. The prince looked at Jim most joyfully, however, and Jim's stomach rebelled. "You are here to save us, but you cannot save her, today."

Jim needed no further explanation. He twisted the arm of one of the guards flanking him and drove him to his knees. A right hook sent the other reeling. He grabbed the guard's spear by the handle before it fell to the ground. Jim spun around with the guard's weapon tightly fisted and pointed the tip at Lequa's throat. "Let her go."

"I'm afraid I cannot."

Jim narrowed his eyes. "Then I will." He walked backwards, aware that with every step he made, the snakes followed him. He held the spear out and without looking at Aleyah, held up one hand to the snake on her right arm. The creature transferred itself to Jim, just as he'd hoped. As he waited for another, there was a pinch to his neck. He lurched, unable to keep hold of the spear and slapping a hand over the offended, now burning area. The dart he found there pulled out easily and he stared at it. Numbness spread over his body, his stance growing incredibly awkward. He looked accusingly at Lequa. "What...what did you give..."

He fell. He knew he did, but it was as if a cloud broke his fall.

"Jim," Aleyah whimpered.

His brow creased. He felt tugging and pulling but there was a clear lack of sensation Jim couldn't understand. Before he could comprehend what was happening to him and therefore, respond to Aleyah, they were carrying him down a corridor on some sort of board, only he couldn't feel it underneath him. Panicked, Jim searched for a reasonable explanation other than that it felt as if he were floating in the air, for that wasn't reasonable enough for him. He desperately tried to get his bearings, but found himself limited. He was numb, but...different. His legs and hands moved awkwardly as he tried to push away from his captors, and he stopped when he realized his movements made no rhyme or reason and did not coordinate with what he commanded his limbs to do. Stunned, his mind resorted to thoughts on how to escape. There'd been no mistaking Aleyah's terror - she needed him.

As they passed by an open window, a gust of wind lifted the Re'an robes. The hoods of two fell off and brushed Jim's face. His heart skipped a beat when he didn't feel the fabric hit his cheek or feel the wind in his face. What had they done to him? His sense of touch registered nothing. 

"Young Kirk, I realize you are experiencing something rather unusual. I am sorry we had to take such drastic measures to insure your cooperation but it was for your benefit. So you can feel at home here you must learn to cast off your current duties and become one of us. You'll understand soon enough." Lequa patted his arm. Jim looked at the royal hand oddly. He hadn't felt a single touch. Lequa murmured to a guard, who promptly freed Jim's arm. Jim lifted his own hand and stared at it in horror.

"What did you do to me?" He whispered, clenching and unclenching his hand and finding himself even more despondent when he couldn't sense his fingers touching. It seemed impossible, but he couldn't feel. What had they done? How could he get to Aleyah and save her like this?

"It's only the beginning, Young Kirk. Soon you'll think of this as mere growing pains. The process of stripping away your identity-"

"Identity?" he repeated numbly.

"Yes, so you can be free to be one of us. It will not be easy, I confess. You will experience side effects that will eventually pass. We have more to do but the end result is nothing less than outstanding for the melding ceremony. You'll be wonderfully happy here. You have experienced happiness here already, have you not?"

Yes, he had. Jim's heart warmed for an instant. He blinked and crushed the feeling with silent accusations about Lequa.  _He poisoned Bones and left Aleyah behind. He had no right to talk to him about happiness._

Lequa continued. "You've perhaps felt more happiness here than you have felt anywhere else for some time."

Jim paused to consider those words, searching for a recent happy memory on the Enterprise. Recalling his shipboard life immediately brought Bones to mind, and his heart twinged with loneliness. Where there should have been joy and contentment he could only find anger and grief. His mind raced when he couldn't recollect a single, pleasurable moment. Surely he had been happy. It was his ship. His crew. He'd been happy. Hadn't he?

A scream shattered the air. Jim jolted. With his heart in his throat, he twisted his neck to look back but was obstructed by the board underneath him.

"Do not move," Lequa ordered. "You've scraped your cheek. It is bleeding."

Scraped? Bleeding? He had felt nothing. "What's going to happen to her?"

Lequa moved to block his view of any surroundings and the guards carrying Jim picked up their speed. Seconds later, Aleyah's shrieking came to a cold stop.

No one had answered his question. For a short time while he realized the xenozoologist's fate on his own, Jim was content with their silence.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters today, and I will post five (yes, five!) the next day, including the last chapter of part one. 
> 
> I'm anxious to post Part Two! It will look different. Thus, the update will include four chapters of Part Two so you can have a good idea of what's going on.
> 
> One last thing before you read - this chapter does include a 'stripping of identity' scene. It is more symbolic than anything as we go further into the story.

McCoy awoke, overcome with dread even before he took in his stark surroundings. He squinted against the searing bright light, his skin prickling upon seeing the bleak cell holding Spock and himself. The Vulcan officer hovered over him as he lay on some sort of flat surface. It took McCoy by surprise to be the recipient of such concern, as Spock hovered much like he would hover over an injured Jim. Also disconcerting was the tattered uniform of the Vulcan, as well as the green blood and lacerations primarily covering his torso. Unable to make sense of anything, McCoy fell back into old patterns, avoiding any thought of the one person who was not with them.

"Let me guess," McCoy muttered. "I'm not Dorothy, you're not Toto, and I'm not wearing a pair of sparkling ruby slippers."

Spock blinked. 

"The Wizard of Oz?" McCoy groaned, rubbing his injured hand lightly. It was bandaged and still sore. He reached for his backside next, noting the cold, hard surface of the bench underneath him and every single aching muscle of his body - but at least he was no longer wheezing. He reasoned that somehow, Spock had reversed the poison's effects.

Spock leaned forward even more in his chair, one eyebrow perfectly arched.

"The Emerald City?" McCoy tried again. Maybe the whole green thing would ring a bell.

"Doctor, the antidote has alleviated many of your symptoms, including your elevated body temperature. If I had no insight into your thought processes during stressful situations and was unaware that you are, indeed, concerned about Jim, I would think you to be speaking most incoherently. However, I believe you are making light of our dire situation to avoid discussion of the captain."

"Yeah, you're right." McCoy scowled. "I'm perfectly sane. Oz is a Terran classic. I was merely commenting that we're not on the Enterprise, and you look like you fought a Gorn. Let me see-" McCoy attempted to sit up but Spock's steady hand forced him down.

"Doctor, my wounds are superficial. The poison is being reversed in your system and you are no longer in danger of dying. However, I advise you not to attempt to stand. The more pressing matter is this: they preferred to keep us here to administer the antidote and ensure Jim's cooperation."

McCoy clenched his fists at his side. "Spock, please tell me he hasn't..."

"I have not heard, doctor, although they mentioned they were preparing him."

"If they lay a hand on him," McCoy threatened.

"Dr. McCoy, you have received two doses of the antidote but you must remain calm in order for them to finish the process," Spock paused. "I have also pleaded our case, and I expect them to heed some of my logic."

"Your logic?" McCoy rubbed his forehead, which continued to ache as before.

"I wish for us to remain here and extract Jim from their hands before any damage is done. I suspect the captain will not cooperate willingly, despite the pull of the snakes. I offered to assist if Jim requires...calming." Spock paused. "As you know, doctor, a meld performed incorrectly can cause significant damage, and I have reminded them of this repeatedly. They will be returning shortly. We must devise a way to convince them to allow me to see Jim before they meld with him. I now think that I may be able to at least ward off irreparable damage."

Spock's use of the phrase "pull of the snakes" horrified McCoy. "Pull of the snakes? Are you saying that he felt some kind of connection to them?" He choked back on vomit, the thought of snakes dangling off Jim nauseating to him. "I know I was a little out of it, but I thought he was scared out of his wits, like the rest of...wait...he wasn't, was he? The damn snakes were calming him!"

McCoy's doctor instincts kicked in, searching his memory for other signs he might have missed besides Jim's eerily relaxed state around the snakes. He cursed himself and his distractions, wondering if he could have prevented any or all of their current predicament.

"I was aware but did not completely comprehend what was happening. Lieutenant Uhura observed Jim with the first snake. She also was made aware through that incident that the captain had suffered another tragedy in his childhood."

"Dammit," McCoy hissed quietly. That was what provoked or even enhanced Jim's symptoms. "Do you think they knew? That he's currently vulnerable to whatever powers they have?"

"I do not know. I believe the captain's ability to charm the snake was an indicator, but perhaps..." Spock quietly continued. "Prince Lequa's son touched Jim when he gave him the snake, and then again after the staged rescue in the garden."

The silence thickened as Spock added no further clarification.

"Wait. Oh, no," McCoy widened his eyes. "You're not telling me that a damn kid is this one they're talking about, the one who has touch telepathic abilities with other species? The one who can meld with Jim?

Spock leaned forward once again, hands clasped on his knees. "Doctor, indeed, I am."

"He will fight with his last breath." McCoy said, knowing Jim would rather die than expose all of Tarsus to a child. "He will never let a child experience his memories. Dammit, Spock, Jim was a kid himself! What he went through was atrocious. You can't even imagine. You wouldn't want to. Hell, even I had a difficult time even functioning..."

McCoy's voice faded. Although with a quick glance one would safely assume the Vulcan was unflappable as always, McCoy checked twice. Spock's eyes showed the slightest hint of tension.

"Spock, although it was horrible, Jim survived. He persevered. But now this...a kid? He'll fight. Again, just like he always has."

"I appreciate your sentiments, doctor," Spock said slowly. "However, in regards to the meld, I fear that Jim will have no choice in the matter."

* * *

 

They placed him on a large, hinged chair made of steel in the middle of a white room roughly the size of his quarters. Jim slumped awkwardly, somewhat mortified by the way he couldn't control his unfeeling body. They manipulated his arms while removing his command shirt and black shirt underneath. His socks and boots were next. Though both the metal of the chair and the air temperature in the room were chilling, Jim could not perceive those sensations even with his bare skin exposed.

Without the sense of touch, Jim could not understand how to operate himself in something as elementary as a chair. He would have simply continued to slide off the chair if not for the two Re'an guards who swiftly took charge. They secured him with a variety of metal cuffs and straps, beginning with his thighs and chest.

Jim felt nothing, save his own mouth and eyes. With the sense of touch lost, it would be next to impossible to fight let alone walk. The lack of feeling was altogether too horrific, and Jim was only slightly aware that his eyes had grown wet since his arrival into the white room.

He wiggled his fingers for awhile, for they had only enclosed his wrists in the cuffs. He stared at them, fixated on flexing his fingers for fear of losing motor control. Soon, the surrounding lights intensified. He squeezed his eyes shut against the unwelcome brightness but his attempt to move his head to one side failed. He clenched his teeth, realizing that beyond an estimated centimeter, his head was immovable.

"Are you comfortable, Captain?"

He made some noncommittal grunt in his throat, unwilling to relax his mouth but he did open his eyes. Emotion swelled within him and being one of the only things he _could_ feel, he welcomed it. Especially the contempt he felt for the prince standing before him.

"It is time to continue. Your doctor is well on his way to recovery. I hope this puts you at ease."

Jim refused to admit that it did.

"You will not be alone here. Despite your differences, you are welcomed, Young Kirk. We are pleased with the ease at which you handle our sacred creatures, as that is usually the last step our new members take. To help you feel like one of us, we must continue to adjust your appearance."

"I thought I was here to be mentally manipulated, not become a poor replica of your mind-sucking species," Jim scoffed. "Like Soona."

"Oh, I am not referring to drastic changes such as those," Lequa stated. "The meld is necessary for all of us to survive, and eventually, those melds will be the only thing barring you yourself from acting out in violence. The drug we administered to you will help us strip away your identity, beginning with your ability and desire to fight, which I sense is an attribute that runs strongly through your veins. The unfortunate lack of sensation you have now will eventually subside. As your commander has warned us, a meld with an unwilling subject is a dangerous thing."

"Then why not use it on yourselves?" He sneered.

"Too much will leave we indigenous Re'an in a vegetative state." Lequa stated. "And that is unacceptable. You were given the smallest dosage and yet you will endure this new lack of feeling for a little while, perhaps even days."

Jim was too shocked to react. Days?

"Even a little more than what we gave you would be detrimental to your human body and you, my son, are too much a prize to lay waste."

"I am not your son," he spat. "I am the son of George Kirk."

"True, but he is dead, is he not?"

"He is my father," he said through clenched teeth.

"He is not here, and you will need one to guide you. I will fulfill that necessary role, and all my sons are distinct from the other Re'an. You will eventually realize that I treat my adoptive sons of mine reverently. I do not unnecessarily harm them." Lequa flicked his fingers. Two Re'an adult females entered, one with a handheld device, the other with a large, wide mirror which was placed in directly in front of Kirk.

The female beings came beside him, and as he tried to observe what they were doing, they moved to his side beyond his peripheral vision. Hands manipulated his eyes, and soon they were forced open so he could no longer close them.

"What is this?" Jim strained, unnerved that he could only stare at his reflection. The mirror extended beyond his peripheral vision as well, repeating his reflection. He peered at his eyes in the image, noting his eyes were now held open by tape and his head was in a slender brace, much as he had feared it to be.

"I want you to watch," Lequa said in a low voice, stroking a young snake in his arms.

The female beings patted his head and ruffled his hair much like Bones used to do when Jim was hurt and in sickbay. The thought of Bones utterly too painful, he watched the Re'an at work, still in disbelief that he couldn't feel the touch of their hands. One being took a cloth along his face and squeezed it above his eyes, allowing water to drip. The water dribbled into his eyes and eased the burning sensation tormenting him. Frustrated he could feel the pain but nothing more, he could only surmise that the excess slid onto his cheek and down his face.

Desperation welled up within him as the other Re'an female took the device and slowly and deliberately removed a narrow strip of Jim's hair.

Then he knew. They intended to shave his hair - all of Lequa's sons were bald. An adopted son would be no different.

His eyes stung even more. He'd been bald only once before. At age thirteen Kodos' guards had shaved off his lice-filled hair, then proceeded to abuse him - and Jim had never shaved his head ever again. The Tarsus reminder would be too brutal. He wasn't called Captain Perfect Hair by Scotty for nothing.

Jim had no choice but to observe his nightmare re-lived. The longer he watched, the harder it was for him to breathe. They would take away more than just his hair, but Jim would not give in. He would find a way to return to his crew, with or without his hair, and with or without some of his memories.

"You are distressed." Lequa held out the snake to him. "I would allow you to touch this, but knowing that you are unable to feel this sacred creature I will set him close against your chest, Young Kirk. Then, you will see him and be comforted as I know you are comforted by them."

"Get it away from me." He sent the prince a withering glance.

Lequa tsked. Before Jim saw the snake resting on his heaving chest, he smelled its scent.

"Don't fight it. The process has already begun and you cannot stop it. This will be only one of several things we must do to prepare you," Lequa said with a nod. "When the time comes that you are unable to fight the change, I will help you through your guilt and your sadness. It's only natural you feel this way but we will all help you. It has already begun but soon, perhaps even this very hour, you will welcome these changes whole-heartedly."

"I will never give in," Jim said, but his eyes trailed to the snake in the mirror and his mind ascended in a soft haze that he could not define to be anything else but peaceful.

"Tell me, what distresses you."

Jim clenched his jaw. _James T. Kirk. Captain. SC937-017..._

Lequa gazed at him with pity. "You feel peace but something at the back of your mind is upsetting you. We can rid you of this pain, if you only answer my questions."

Jim's gaze flickered to Lequa.

"Ah, you must sense the comfort we can give you."

"I will not give in," Jim said, but as he feared, his words lacked the previous passion. Terrified at his internal conflict, his chest tightened and he began a mental rant to contradict the prince's words.

_He didn't want this. That was insane. He wouldn't want this. He would defy the hold they have on him and curse those snakes with every last breath. Lequa said he had a few hours before the drug took full effect? He would find a way and be off this planet long before then._

"I see." Lequa promptly scooped up the snake, Jim in torment as the Prince took away what had soothed his mind a moment before.

His reflection was empty without the snake, and the loss cut so deep that Jim didn't understand it himself. He wanted the snake back, but could not bear to hear himself say the words. So he buried the cry deep within the already broken creviced places. By now, the Re'an had almost completed the hair-shaving process. Each time that a strip of hair disappeared, he was back on Tarsus.

"What is distressing you?" Lequa asked again. "The next step after this will be even more challenging, Young Kirk. It may be beneficial for you to-"

"James T. Kirk. Captain. SC937-0176CEC," Jim muttered, reaching for the fight he felt waning within him and grasping a corner of it with all that he had and dragging it to the surface. If he lost that part of himself, the rest was sure to falter and break at an unthinkable pace.

The three Re'an beings in the room stood perfectly still, waiting. Waiting for what, Jim did not know. For him to break down in this very chair? Reveal what was 'distressing' him? He mused bitterly, keeping his thoughts inward where he could ignore the questions and presence of the Re'an. _James T. Kirk. Captain. SC937-0176CEC._ _Jim Kirk did not give in. He did not give in._ _James T. Kirk. Captain-_

The snake appeared at his chest in the reflection once again, and both Jim's attention and breaths returned to the addictive haze the snake provided before he could even think of protesting. The beings returned to their work. When he tried to form the words to express his displeasure with them, the inside of his mouth grew heavy and thick just as it had when Bones disappeared from sight. Jim could only sit in silence, regretting that he'd ever touched a Re'an snake in the first place, and Lequa remained strangely quiet.

A female being gave one final sweep of the device and it was done. They tore the tape off of his eyes without ceremony, the stinging of the sensitive skin around his eyes never registering. He squinted and blinked to clear his vision, the image before him shocking to the Star Fleet captain.

A bare-headed stranger stared back. If not for the apparent age of the human in the mirror, Jim could have sworn it was a reflection of himself on Tarsus. He made a pitiful, helpless sound in the back of his throat. His signature golden locks were gone, leaving only a faint shadowing of fuzz. Unwittingly, now also a mere shadow was his resistance.


	17. Chapter 17

 

Spock stood with his back to McCoy, hands clasped behind him. His rigid posture hid the inner turmoil he was experiencing. He had observed humans, most particularly his captain, pacing in such situations and while wasting energy was illogical, there might be some value in it. Just when he was about to perform an experiment to determine this, the doctor spoke up.

"They're late."

Spock could not see McCoy's scowl but the apparent displeasure in the doctor's voice was unmistakable.

"Indeed, doctor. You were scheduled to receive the last dose of antidote thirty minutes ago. An unprecedented time has lapsed. However, while the Re'an are behind schedule, I have no reason to suspect that they will not finish the process as promised." He left unsaid that the Re'an had what they wanted - their captain. Anticipating the Re'an's imminent arrival, Spock stood in between McCoy and the door.

"Blast it, Spock, I'm not concerned about myself. Aren't you worried about Jim? His very sanity is on the line. His-"

The door sliding open interrupted the doctor's rant. Light from the hallway illuminated the visitor's features and Spock shifted his stance in surprise. One of the Re'an guards had administered the earlier antidote, but this was neither of those tall, muscled men. Rather, it was the petite warrior Soona.

The Re'an female held a hypo loosely in her hands, the quiet demeanor and serenity in her expression giving her an ethereal presence. Spock observed her fluid movements with a careful eye. She carried herself with the Re'an grace, but she was not Re'an. She was...human. How had he not seen that earlier? Spock had not considered this possibility until this very moment. He had noted her diminutive stature when he saw her the first time but he had been too far from her during the disastrous rescue mission to observe the other discrepancies in her physical appearance. Up close, her physical Re'an alterations were more apparent, and Spock considered the likely possibility that Jim had been suspicious of her humanity. Spock calculated that she must have grown six centimeters since the forced modifications, causing the visible discrepancies.

Soona brushed past Spock and crouched down beside the doctor. "This is the final dose, Dr. McCoy. Lie still, please."

McCoy eyed the hypo, already reaching out to wrench it from her. "I can do it."

"No," she said, eying him sharply and continuing in a whisper. "Please allow me. The guards may enter and they must see that I am following through with my intentions. You'll need to rest until you are no longer light-headed, but it shouldn't be long."

McCoy's brow furrowed. Soona pursed her lips and plunged the antidote into McCoy's neck.

"Kirk doesn't belong here," she whispered, attention focused on her task.

"Neither do you belong here," Spock looked pointedly at her.

She pulled the hypo from McCoy's neck and glanced up at Spock with displeasure. "You cannot understand, but I do belong. While I must remain here, Kirk doesn't have to. I believe I can possibly assist you to escape with him. You will have to decide if you can trust me."

"May I presume that you know the location and condition of Dr. Jahnas?"

Her gaze flickered as she lowered her eyes to the floor. "I do. I am sorry."

Spock narrowed his eyes in response as the silence swelled in the room.

"She's dead?" McCoy gasped, struggling to rise. "And they have Jim right where they want him..."

"Your captain is more important to them," she hurriedly explained. "There is a small window of opportunity we can take advantage of to free him. Now is not the time for that."

"Why not?" McCoy eyed the door. "I reckon that now is a perfect time to escape. Especially with you as a potential hostage."

"That is quite logical, doctor," Spock arched an eyebrow.

Soona shook her head. "It's not the right time. If you act now and something goes wrong, you risk the prince killing your captain. He has a vengeful side, one that I only recently have discovered myself. It emerges under stress and confrontation as he showed when your xenozoologist interrupted his plans. The Re'an - my people are showing the effects of surviving without the proper memories. Even Prince Lequa is not immune. You must assume that the he is unstable and capable of anything."

"Then when, pray tell, do you suggest we hightail it out of here?" McCoy scowled.

"When they release you from this cell, they will be well into the meld, more than likely finished. I overheard them talking; they will probably deny your request to see Jim even though the prince was considering it for after the meld completes. Prince Lequa will be observing the melding ceremony, as well as some of the guards. You can make it to our control center to lower the planetary shields while the Re'an are distracted. I also have this..." She glanced back at the door, hands fumbling under her robes. She pulled out a Star Fleet issued phaser. Spock took it and tucked it underneath his shirt in the waistband of his pants. She continued. "...to disarm the one who is guarding Kirk. I can provide a distraction."

"Why are you willing to help us now?" Spock questioned, one brow raised. "You expressed no empathy with our situation previously."

"I have assisted others in the past. The Re'an don't suspect me, but that is part of what threatened our secret. I was very young then. Only eight years old. I wasn't going to help anyone again, but I wish Lequa would find a different way to accomplish peace in our society. I enjoy my peace here. It's really all I've ever known. As I said before, I've realized his ven-"

The door opened again and Soona tightened her hold around the empty hypo.

"You are taking too long," the Re'an guard in the doorway announced.

She stood, making no excuses as she rose from the floor. Without a glance at either Spock or McCoy, Soona exited. The door closed.

"Well, that was unexpected." McCoy shifted his body on the bench. "Can we trust her?"

The phaser lay heavily against Spock's skin as he ruminated on Soona's apparent sincerity. "I can state with certainty that she was being truthful."

"But can we trust her?"

"It is my desire to trust her," Spock simply said. "However, I am uncertain if that is the best way to effect our escape."

"Why the hell not?" McCoy thundered. "We can't wait any longer, Spock! Who knows what else they are doing to Jim as we sit here and talk. I don't have a good feeling about waiting."

"If they are unable to meld with Jim, they may seize the opportunity to kill him. Furthermore, breaking the meld in an abrupt manner would be detrimental not only to Jim, but to their chosen one. Both are risks I simply do not believe we can afford to take. I would prefer to bring our captain home alive, doctor."

"Alive is good, but we both know that Jim would rather die than become less than himself. We don't know what these mental alterations will do to him." McCoy pleaded with him, but Spock had already made his decision. "We don't know what he will be like after the meld. Will there be enough of Jim left to rescue?"

"He will be Jim," Spock said determinedly. "And we will escape with all of his memories intact even if we must bring their chosen one aboard the Enterprise to repair the damage they have inflicted upon him."

McCoy's reply was utter silence.

* * *

 

Soona scurried away from the two officers, her betrayal echoing in her mind. The Re'ans had taken her in and provided her with comfort and a home, and now she had betrayed them for a second time. For the second time in her short life she had also threatened the very survival of their species.

The reality of Prince Lequa's persecution and torture of innocent people finally penetrated her shadowed life as a Re'an citizen. Re'an citizen, but human by birth, she could no longer hide behind ignorance and passively stand by while the Prince wrenched people from their peaceful lives and forced them to bend to his will. The rumors regarding the Enterprise's xenozoologist sent chills coursing down her spine. She determined that it had to stop, no matter the cost to her civilization and perhaps very life. It would stop now, with Captain Kirk.

Steeling her expression, she cautiously approached the double doors. The presence of at least a dozen Re'an guards alerted her to the fact that Kirk must behind them. Lost in thought, she was taken unaware by the Prince himself.

"Soona, you should not be here." Prince Lequa turned to her with chiding eyes, addressing her as if she were a lost puppy. "These things are not for your eyes or ears, my daughter."

She seethed inside, feeling the same distaste and hatred for those words as she always did. She was not his daughter nor would she ever be. He wanted her as a member of his family only because in the Re'an world, she was considered to be a valuable prize. She was already adopted. The only way she could enter his family was by marriage to one of his sons.

The thought repulsed her.

"What are you going to do to him?"

"He is strong, stronger than I had first anticipated. If we proceed as usual, there is a great risk that we would damage his mind during the melding process. Therefore I have decided that we must remove the last remnants of his resistance. We have to ensure his complete cooperation."

"Remove? You'll destroy him!" She inched towards the door, wanting to see Kirk through the window.

Prince Lequa clutched her arm. "No, my child. These parts of him will return in time, assuming that he continues to cooperate. Do not worry yourself over him. Perhaps, since you appear to be so concerned for his welfare, I will allow you to see him soon."

"When?"

"Once that tragic memory is less heavy and burdensome in the depths of his mind."

"Then will our people return to their peaceful ways? After peace is secure, surely you will return to him whatever you've taken?"

Prince Lequa's lips curled into a smile. "Of course."

His smile warned her. She shivered, thinking of Dr. Jahnas' fate. "This will still hurt him."

Hearing the Prince's plan changed hers. The doctor and commander must rescue Kirk sooner than she anticipated. How could she find her way back to their cell without provoking the guards' suspicion?

"It is the only way. You know this. It is the only way, Soona, or we all perish." He paused, narrowing his eyes at her. "You are being quite inquisitive. I fear I cannot allow you to possibly interfere with this opportunity. Guards!"


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of Part One, and in a way, a transition chapter to the next part. I will post a few more chapters as promised. 
> 
> Small warning, though...this depicts a little torture...and a lot of hurt for Jim.

In his misery, Jim lost all track of time. The Re'an had left him by himself some time earlier after shaving off all his hair. He thought they enjoyed leaving him to suffer in solitude.  He told himself that it had only been a few hours and left it at that, because if he pondered it too much, the truth became clearer. He'd been here much longer than that, and it was something he could hardly wrap his mind around.

His stomach gnawed, a constant, raw emptiness.  An ache settled deep inside his head, in a place where his memories began to numb. His vision blurred as fatigue settled and he found himself too tired to stay awake.

It was how he knew he'd been here for a long, long time. _Days_ , a voice whispered in his mind. _Impossible,_ he replied, but he knew the other voice had whispered the truth. He relied on past training and soon found some comfort in lingering in a vague place in his mind, a place where he had no need to fight the emotional conflict brought on by the drug they had given him or the unfeeling state that threatened to tip him towards insanity altogether. It wasn't a perfect solution, for he felt parts of himself slipping away. His eyes closed, and then he watched parts of himself slip away...and there wasn't anything he could do to stop it. The time passed, and he fell in and out of consciousness. 

"It's time." Prince Lequa's solemn voice seeped through into the dulled corners of his tortured mind.

Jim's eyes fluttered open and he caught sight of his haggard reflection before finding Lequa, who had appeared out of nowhere like an apparition. He blinked slowly at Lequa, wondering briefly if he was only a vision before speaking. "I want..." Jim winced, finding that he lost the name that was on the tip of his tongue and his voice was barely above a whisper from disuse. He cleared his throat. "I have to verify that...that...Dr. McCoy is recovering."

"I'm sorry," Lequa shook his head. "It is a request I cannot grant."

"A simple comm would suffice." Jim eyed the three Re'an. If he could manage a neck hold on one of the Re'an perhaps he could do some damage. His strength wasn't all gone. If he could see what his hands were doing, he could accomplish some sort of physical action. But even if he managed to do that, there was nothing else he could do. An attempt to walk, however, was an utter waste of his time and energy. "Surely, you could grant me one last request."

"You are not going to die," Lequa frowned. "Forgive me if I gave you that impression."

It was a poorly placed comment, and Jim decided it was a brusque one made purposefully to strike a nerve. Jim now recalled the anguish of leaving Aleyah to her fate, swarmed by alien snakes. He fought to keep his anger in check.

"You are taking me away from my family - forever," Jim said, rueing every selfish decision he had made that estranged him from his _brother_ the past several weeks. "It is a cruel thing-"

"Is it not better to do what you are doing for us? For a species once belonging to the Federation? What about the needs of the many?" Lequa's voice took on an edge.

"It is not a better purpose when you are manipulating and essentially murdering innocent, unassuming people on your behalf. Couldn't there be another way to provide-"

"Enough," Lequa snapped. Jim fell quiet, noting that the prince once again revealed cracks in his mask of tranquility. Lequa squared his shoulders as he stepped in front of Jim. His once warm, peach eyes morphed into an icy, threatening orange hue. "Your adjustment to Re'an life will be swifter and easier if you cease all contact with your former life, especially now that we've begun the process."

The same two guards who had locked Jim into place in the chair entered, each carrying a small box.

"Resistance is futile, and in order to satisfy our agreement, we must continue." Lequa snapped his fingers. One guard appeared on Lequa's right, box open to reveal two syringes similar to 21st century Terran ones.

Jim swallowed, preparing himself for either torture by way of yet another drug or the inevitable meld. With his eyes trained on the syringes being prepped he didn't notice that they were taping his eyes until he could no longer close them.

"So we're back to this again," Jim offered. This time they gave him no water to alleviate the burning sensation in his eyes. "You could've just asked if you wanted me to watch."

"No," Lequa moved to the side, allowing the robed guard to come forward. "I mentioned before there are growing pains. We are taking many precautions with you, Kirk, to reach you at your most vulnerable place during the meld. As much as we are manipulating the physical, the mental change is of utmost importance in this transition."

Lequa paused while the guard positioned himself beside Jim.

Jim took a deep breath when the guard failed to appear in his peripheral vision. As the other guard pulled out a mouth guard from another box, Jim laughed humorlessly. "I take it this is the fun part."

Lequa smiled thinly at him. Suddenly, he pulled out a narrow, cylindrical device out of nowhere and flashed it abruptly into each of Jim's eyes. The brilliant red light seared into his mind, halting his laugh and freezing his eyes into place.

"What the hell," he whispered, finding quickly and horrifically that his vision was trained to one precise spot. That one spot, where once Lequa stood, was now empty. Jim took a shaky breath. He could no longer locate the three Re'an beings he knew to be in the room with him.

Hands pulled at him and even if he had the desire to fight, they quickly overpowered him as they wrenched his mouth open with eager hands. He felt their forceful tugging, the pressure of their intrusiveness, and finally, the pinch of a mouthguard as it was pressed around his teeth. He choked as they released their hands and a sharply edged guard shifted and settled uncomfortably. The chair lurched backwards with a screeching whir, the force of it causing the wretched device to cut deeper into his gums until the metallic taste of blood coated his tongue. As the chair continued to angle backwards, Jim cringed at the ensuing noise. With his eyes paralyzed, his mouth forced to comply with the invasive gadget, and most of his face already numb, he could hardly manage the muscle movement to express his discomfort.

"It'll be worth it in the end, my son," Lequa murmured, appearing out of nowhere.

The chair continued backwards until Jim's body lay parallel with the ceiling. His eyes fixed helplessly upon the ceiling, forcing him to watch as a crude yet sinister looking contraption drifted down. It stopped within centimeters of Jim's face. The guards placed the syringes in two empty metal holders above his head. The Re'an slipped from his sight, leaving Jim to wonder at the contraption dangling ominously with the inescapable sharp points. The needles were so small, they were almost invisible. The more he wondered, the greater the dread swirling in the pit of his stomach.

"Remain calm. The drug has been working against your instincts, Young Kirk, and after this procedure, you will be drawn us more than ever. It is as inevitable as the feelings of guilt that you betray your crew for your new family."

"No," Jim garbled out but the machine lowered and so did the two needles aiming straight at his eyes.

Jim whimpered. It was a sound he detested, but he repeated it, like a dog knowing it was about to be beaten by his master. Miniscule needles consumed his vision and overcame his thoughts. Pitiful, helpless cries were all he could manage before the needles pierced through his eyes, perforating and injuring one of the few parts of his body with feeling intact.

The needles drove into his eyes, his cries contorted by the mouth guard as he screamed in what felt like endless agony. He felt no gratitude for that which prevented him from tearing his mouth apart - only concentrated pain. Miserable, hot, searing pain that was too concentrated and overwhelming for anyone, let alone someone lacking the sense of touch and feeling only with his eyes as Jim did. Tears flooded, streaking remnants of the brief but brutal torture down his face.

He was broken before it ended. The pain had taken over, and he didn't know what had broken, hadn't felt the mental snap or the tug in his mind. The decline in resistance had been subtle ever since the dart pierced his neck. It diminished when they removed his hair, but now enough time had passed and they knew exactly when to strike. They kept Jim in a world of anguish, his body contorting with stress - and his resistance could do nothing but fade completely. They removed the mouthguard, as it all was over before his crying ceased.

It hit him a moment later, striking when his sobs lessened, his body heaved less, and despite the lingering pain bringing his mind to its knees. It was then that he realized they had taken something from him that was almost as precious as his memories.

"No," he rasped, throat aching with emotion. Unbeknownst to Jim, his body shuddered. "Why?"

"Vulnerability," a voice murmured in his left ear. "When we tattoo your arms and neck, you will not even know. As we come into the room, you will be unaware for we are stealthy. As our chosen one lays his hand on your head and begins the melding process with you, it will be unexpected and his entrance into your mind unhindered. Today and for some time, your very desire to fight will be taken completely away until we are certain passivity comes naturally to you. Now, tell me if you want to attempt to escape from us. In essence, that is fighting against us, my son."

"James...Kirk. Captain. SC937-017...7..."

"Tell me, Young Kirk," Lequa said smoothly. "Will you attempt to escape if the opportunity arises?"

"...Kirk, Captain...SC937...3 7...0...1..."

"Will you?" The voice echoed loudly in his other ear. "It's begun. You cannot fight, can you?"

Tears leaked from the corners of his still smarting eyes. Why couldn't he say it again? Why?

"Tell me you'll fight. Tell me you wish to escape," Lequa prompted. "Then we will know we failed."

"...Kirk..." No, he cried silently to himself. He shouldn't give up. They'll come for him. He wanted them to come.

"Tell me," Lequa said warmly. "If you can."

"I...can't..."

"You cannot do what?" Lequa's voice washed over him, and they repeated the sequence again. Jim's voice rasped as he stuttered out his name, his fight noticeably waning until Lequa asked him one last time.

"...don't want...to..." Jim mumbled feebly, breaking inside as his will had been contorted to fit the Re'an way. Anger simmered beneath the surface, not that it was any use to him. The drug had stolen his very desire to flee. He thought of Bones, but something unknown and strange within him was trying to banish the idea that the doctor and the rest of his crew would return for him. He groaned. "...don't...want to...fight..."

"Good," crooned the prince.

The praise stung, mocking him, and a low, mournful protest emerged from Jim's lips.

"You've made excellent progress. Be happy that your desire and ability to fight has departed from you. It is what defines the Re'an as we work towards utter tranquility within our culture. You will see life through our eyes soon."

Lequa paused, and Jim only sensed his body being manipulated out of the chair from the pressure in his arms and legs. There was a forceful degree of pressure hitting the left side of his body and then nothing. The prince spoke again, this time from afar.

"I'll return shortly with our chosen one. You're on the floor, my son, no longer in the chair but on your side. I advise you again to try to remain as still as possible. I know it's a difficult thing to do, given your circumstances, but this room contains things which could harm you. I don't imagine you'll be going anywhere until I return. Simply put, you're too vulnerable in this state. But I will not be gone long. As I've said before, I do not allow unnecessary harm to come to my children."

Jim lay still, stripped of everything that made him James T. Kirk. Completely helpless, he was trapped in a horrid, closed world. Somewhere deep inside of himself, he knew that he must abhor this situation. He must. He only needed to access that hatred.

Resigned, he realized that Lequa was right. He was too vulnerable. Not only had Jim lost the desire to escape, he was blind and his body unfeeling.

With every single ounce of resistance gone from his body, Jim finally wanted to do what Bones had asked him to do in the first place. He was finally willing to allow his friends to help him. Ironically, now he'd never have the chance to do so.

He had sacrificed himself for his crew. He would sacrifice himself again and again if he had to, but his present truth hurt more than ever. He had lost them, and that hurt more than anything that the Re'an had done to him or he could imagine them doing. His hope that the Enterprise was coming back for him had all but disappeared, fading now as his sight and urge to resist had already been torn from his grasp.

Somehow, his arm found a spot under his head as his body naturally curled into a ball, and his lips brushed the skin of the back of his hand. Feeling completely abandoned and alone, Jim's tears rolled slowly down his face and onto the cold unforgiving floor without him even knowing.


	19. Chapter 19 Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at Part Two. Simply put, this chapter is a game changer. It contains such a huge twist that I decided to give you a heads up before you read. It is also quite detailed oriented, so read carefully.
> 
> Complete notes are included at the end. Oh, and I told Redford in a comment that this story would end around 36-38 chapters. I must amend this because how I write Jim on this side of things is crucial and I really don't want to rush things. Chapters will be getting a little lengthier. Also, I am now including a Part Three. Indigenous is most definitely the longest story I've written to date, as we're looking at the total number of chapters to be in the 40s.
> 
> I've been honestly pleasantly surprised regarding the response to this second part...and I will be crossing my fingers that it will be the same here. However, in case you ARE tempted to throw tribbles at me for this twist...please read a little further before passing judgement. :) All of my shenanigans do have a purpose.

 

The tension in sickbay was palpable as Spock's hand fell away from Jim's face. This most recent meld with the catatonic captain disconcerted Spock greatly. The captain's condition dictated that the melds be superficial. Nonetheless, Spock fought a growing burden of despair and abandonment which displaced his logic. Spock felt the eyes of McCoy upon him, but he could not answer the unspoken questions.

Spock stared at Jim. Those emotions were not his own although he wished them to be solely his for his captain's sake. He'd battled them ever since he and McCoy rescued Jim from the Re'an's hands thirteen days ago. Jim was hurting, doubly. Not only did the captain's physical body in front of Spock display the results of captivity on Re'an V, but Jim's mind also suffered from that torture. Distorted and erroneous memories overwhelmed Jim with their false impressions and emotions.

"Well?" McCoy's urgency cut through Spock's thoughts.

Spock opened his mouth to speak and gagged on the dryness, the painful and thick sensation cutting into his throat. He choked through the captain's thoughts threatening to careen his own sanity into darkness. He tried to speak again, managing only a frail sputter.

"Here." McCoy handed him a cup of water. "Drink slowly."

Spock sipped the liquid, assessing his own physical and mental abilities. He deduced that his powers suffered a severe blow, weakening by 18.4 percent. He could not risk another meld without permanently succumbing to some of the same maladies Jim was experiencing.

"Better?" McCoy's asked gravely.

Spock shook his head. He'd prefer complete numbness to these conflicting, tumultuous emotions. He desired to curl into a ball as his captain had done in his twisted memory and weep. He also doubted McCoy's concern and wished to reply in hurt and with anger.

Logic told Spock those thoughts were not his own. They were a result of the meld and, eventually, he would overcome them. He must keep his strength - or they would lose Jim completely to a tormented, false world. The situation in Jim's mind had deteriorated, increasing the dangers of the melds with Spock for both of them. Worse still, as the captain's emotional and mental well-being continued to wither, Spock's ability to reach Jim through a deeper, penetrating meld also diminished.

The chosen one left too deep a barrier and too intricate a maze of disjointed scenes, memories, and impressions of the Re'an mission.

"The meld's emotional transfer is...great."

"Of all the times to get emotional, you pick now." McCoy muttered under his breath.

"It cannot be helped." Spock tamped down a sarcastic but defensive reply forming in his mind, one akin to what Jim would say. "I am not penetrating his thoughts. I am merely a watchman, but his emotions do spill over to me, Dr. McCoy."

Dr. McCoy did not appear to have heard. "Did you forget that the last time you melded with Jim, you discovered he was stripped of his sense of touch? Did you forget that if he's not strapped down, I must place him in stasis to keep his body still for his own safety and protection? Good God, man! His brain fulfills each and every fear that was provoked by the chosen one's meld. We are running out of time. What will be next? His voice? His sight?"

In his mottled state, Spock could not properly follow the rapid firing of accusations and barely managed to catch the end of McCoy's rant. He found his voice to explain. "In Jim's false mental world, the Re'an blinded him. His brain reacted in turn, as it has with each new fear. Jim, indeed, is blind."

"What?" McCoy revealed his shock for several seconds before his face hardened into a cool, professional mask. The doctor spoke not a word but glanced down at the man lying still and catatonic on the biobed. Quickly, he began to scan both of Jim's open, ever-brilliant blue eyes. Spock could not yet remove himself from Jim's side, and McCoy worked around him, every movement reflecting a guarded, silent rage. After a moment, McCoy stopped abruptly.

"I'm now getting a very odd reading, but I won't know for sure what the condition of his eyes is unless I am able to run more thorough testing, and I can't risk that yet. His vitals are going haywire. He needs rest." McCoy ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "Medical readings aside, I believe that your assessment is correct. I also believe there may be very little that I can do, unless we can rewire his brain. However, if Jim could begin to somehow understand that what he is thinking right now is not his reality, his brain could then begin the proper signaling, right? It should be the same for his lack of touch sensation. We can work with that, Spock. We have to. He can't live in a catatonic state, unfeeling, restrained, blind, dependent on catheters for bodily processes and dependent on IV fluids - and maintain his present health and physique."

The thought of that was intolerable. Still wrought with Jim's emotions, Spock visibly shifted. McCoy closed his mouth, appearing like he wished to say more but was reluctant to do so. He stared at Spock and his uncharacteristic fidgeting.

"Dr. McCoy, I presume you have not disclosed the extent of Jim's injuries."

McCoy scowled. "Jim will require physical therapy to regain use of his hand, the very hand on which one large Re'an male crushed and imprinted with his damn heel. If Jim doesn't visibly respond within a few days, physical therapy will begin without Jim's willing involvement. If he can't help with his own therapy, it won't be as effective. Actually, it simply won't be effective."

"He will not regain use of his hand," Spock said, a knot growing in his stomach.

"No, he won't." McCoy frowned. "Not unless I re-break virtually every bone of his hand and restructure the muscles one surgery at a time. That could take...months. Years for therapy to truly work, unless we can figure out a way to manipulate his hand mechanically. There has to be something we can do that could stimulate his mind. It may take time, but with the proper channeling..."

"It is not that simple," Spock stated. "The Re'an meld was quite complex, doctor. The child's influence continues even now. Due to his techniques which continue to ravage Jim's mind, it would take me an indeterminate amount of time to even begin to identify the patterns I observed. This telepathy is unmatched. If we proceed blindly-"

McCoy scowled deeper.

Spock arched a brow. "Excuse my poor choice of words, doctor. If we proceed...without a definite plan...we will cause more damage."

The doctor exhaled a strangled sigh and set down the scanner. His shoulders drooped as his attention returned to Jim, whose gaze fixed vacantly on the ceiling. The captain's chest rose and fell as steadily as before, showing no sign that he even registered his loss of sight. As he had done countless times before, McCoy bent over Jim and brushed the captain's shaven head deliberately, careful of the catheter. Soon, his hand came to rest on Jim's forehead.

McCoy softened his voice. "I'll fix it, Jim. I promise. If I can't fix it, I'll never stop trying. But for you, Jim...and Spock..." McCoy glanced at Spock. "For you both, it's becoming too dangerous to meld."

"Perhaps." Spock reconsidered his previous thoughts concerning the melding in the wake of learning about Jim's hand.

McCoy rubbed his jaw and shook his head. "No more, Spock. Jim wouldn't want you harmed - and neither do I. I know I was upset earlier but I see what you aren't telling me. We will find another way. I'll sedate him for the night. It's the only way he will sleep. We'll start over tomorrow."

Spock was too fatigued to protest, although he would do whatever he must for his captain. As McCoy requested a sedative for Jim, Spock considered the unresponsive human before him. The thirteen days that had passed seemed liked decades. Thirteen days ago, Spock and McCoy escaped from their cell, soon beaming down enough security to help them extract Jim safely from the grips of the degenerating Re'an but it was too late. Prior to their arrival, Jim endured a fierce, merciless beating by a group of Re'an males succumbing to violent tendencies. They left him near death but alive just enough to bear the Re'an meld. The Re'an meld had been next, somewhat shortened when Spock and McCoy tore through the doors with security and found and rescued their captain. Now, utilizing the words of Nyota, Spock decided he 'hardly recognized Jim.'

Bruises then covered Jim's entire body, from his forehead and base of his neck down to his fingers and toes and not sparing what was hidden under the cotton gown and blanket. Jim's face and neck sported more serious contusions; the wrists and ankles where metal shackles had kept Jim busy in trying to free himself, the worst.

The injuries did not end there. Jim sustained several broken bones in both of his arms, hands, and legs, all of which McCoy healed with careful precision, excluding the difficulty with Jim's right hand. Two days previously, McCoy had informed Spock that an infection had set in Jim's right thigh from the infused alien blood and Spock had watched as the doctor carefully drained the infection the first time. He watched again as McCoy lifted the white sheet from Jim's leg, tucking it elsewhere. His hands gentle and methodical, McCoy pulled Jim's gown away from the site and removed the bandage to reveal the jagged injury. The inflamed skin oozed pus, Jim's thigh looking more irritated and painful than before.

"This damned alien blood. Jim's pain from this would be off the charts. It's a damned good thing he can't feel it. It swelled overnight," McCoy muttered as he worked cleaning and re-bandaging the affected area. "We believe that we found the blood's weakness this morning. We can most likely beat it but it will take another week or two to fully heal, with Jim off of his feet. Not like that will be an issue."

Spock knew McCoy's frustration stemmed from the fact that that the wound required constant supervision and periodic draining to rid Jim's body of accumulating alien bacteria. Due to the vivacity and strength of the Re'an blood, resolving the problem had been challenging. Hearing it will be healed in two weeks pacified Spock, as before there wasn't an end to the infection in sight.

As McCoy tended to Jim's wound, Spock considered the rest of the damage the Re'an had inflicted. McCoy repaired four broken ribs but Jim's entire ribcage suffered damage. The doctor controlled the internal bleeding in Jim's abdomen but three surgeries had been required to fix the damage. The doctor also kept vigilant watch over the swelling in Jim's brain. Although McCoy himself said he hated the catheter which emphasized Jim's shaven head, he refused to remove it until all danger cleared.

McCoy repaired much of the damage and medication warded off bodily pain but the ultimate work of the vicious Re'an had not faded. A mixture of both twisted memories and faux viewpoints of his crew refused to stop their mighty onslaught upon Jim's psyche. Spock ascertained yesterday that only 25.3% of Jim's memories of the Re'an mission were accurate. As of two point three minutes ago, that calculation decreased by 4.6%. The Re'an, despite their extinct state, also managed to crush Jim's spirit.

"He is giving up." Spock simply stated.

"The hell he is!" McCoy scowled as he covered Jim's leg with the sheet and glanced up at Jim's readings. "He may have been stripped of the things that has made him Jim Kirk, but he does not give up. He will pull through, Spock, and he'll do it before HQ wants another update on their infamous Captain."

The door opened to the captain's private room. Nurse Chapel entered, and upon seeing Spock, gave the doctor a hesitant glance.

"I know it's early yet, but we attempted another mind meld," McCoy quietly explained. "I don't want to keep Jim up any longer."

"Do you want me to leave the sedative, Dr. McCoy?" She asked.

"No." McCoy reached over and gently held the least injured of Jim's hands. "Go ahead."

Spock duly noted that up until seven point four days ago when Jim still had his sense of touch, he had responded to the doctor's ministrations. The response had always been a slight elevation to his heart rate. Now, there was no response because there could be no response.

Spock's chest twisted with an emotion he had not felt since the death of his mother.

"Don't ya find it ironic, Spock?" McCoy asked, his eyes never leaving Jim's as Nurse Chapel administered the sedative. When Jim didn't protest the hypo as he would under other circumstances, Spock felt a distinct sense of dismay once more. Within seconds, the captain's eyes fluttered shut.

As Nurse Chapel exited the room, Spock tilted his head and considered him carefully. "Please explain, doctor."

McCoy clutched Jim's limp hand with both of his own, and Spock saw quite clearly a brilliant image of the best friend that Jim sorely missed. The man who loved Jim like a brother, who would do anything for him and Jim, the same. Yet, the void in the captain's heart had become Spock's. It threatened to ravage his sanity, especially as a wave of fresh agony washed over him. The shared, emotional anguish sent him reeling once again. The concept of vengeance swirled in his mind; he willed his spine to straighten.

Had the Re'an been alive and in close proximity, Spock was not certain he would behave according to Star Fleet standards.

"Jim clearly needs physical touch and the reassurance that we are here, yet he doesn't even know we're comforting him. He can't, not in this state. It's impossible, unless he can hear us." McCoy stopped abruptly, but only a moment as his voice became filled with a quiet rage. "Is that what these bastards planned? Did they know his fears and orchestrate every last bit? This is why he's giving up. He believes I abandoned our friendship and threw him into the fire. He believes we aren't here, that we aren't coming back for him after he sacrificed himself for us...in this...this messed up world of his. But, he did sacrifice himself in our reality in that cursed sacred room and we never turned our backs."

"He cannot help it, and I cannot stop it," Spock explained softly. "There is more, Dr. McCoy. In Jim's version of the mission and his capture, as convoluted as they both are, they stripped away his desire to fight. I have ascertained that during the Re'an meld in our reality, the chosen one was to instigate a path of destruction if the Re'an were unable to retrieve what they wanted from the captain. As you know, the Re'an of Re'an V are all dead by their own hand, doctor. Therefore, the path of destruction has begun."

"What are you saying?"

"We must assume, doctor, that Jim fought with the chosen one during the meld and they were unable to retrieve the memories they needed. However, the child severed their connection once prior to our arrival into the room. Also prior and in retaliation, the boy's violent urges spilled over into the meld and he harmed the captain most viciously. Not only did he cause Jim's fears to arise and infiltrate his memories to falsify them, the boy took away Jim's very desire to fight."

"Why?" As always, McCoy stood resolutely beside Jim. "What the hell was the point of doing any of that?"

"The Re'an valued peace. They lacked the will and desire to fight only if their culture sustained proper maintenance. The Re'an also valued those who charmed their snakes and who in turn were charmed by these same, sacred creatures, such as our captain. They needed Jim, but more than that, they accepted Jim; those reasons are why they melded. Jim is now one of them since they melded and his will has been broken to fit their way. The Re'an went to great lengths to get him."

Spock paused, grieved that Jim was subjected to and believed in these numerous, contorted memories and ideas. In particular, that Jim believed his erroneous decisions and the abandonment by McCoy were real and at the heart of the captain's failure and the crew's capture. Those were all fears, fears Jim experienced in his mind that were as real as anything he could see and touch.

The Re'an had known how to act - and when. And now, Jim was helpless to believe every lie and it was this which trapped him in the darkest, loneliest depths of his mind. Spock and McCoy would do whatever it took to get their captain back. Jim was theirs. The Re'an weren't the only ones who refused to relinquish their hold.

"They went to great lengths to get him and were determined to keep him, even when they stood at death's door. Doctor, other than Soona, Jim is the last."

"The last what?" McCoy's hushed words filled with trepidation. "Re'an?"

"Indeed."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it, and hopefully I'm still here! LOL! I'll try to answer a few questions I believe you have running through your mind. 
> 
> Part One is Jim's twisted version of the mission and Spock did, indeed, see it through the meld(s). Jim's twisted version is a result of the disastrous Re'an meld, multiple viewpoints included. I believe an intricate meld could cause that, and don't forget that as Jim has been in this state for almost two weeks, McCoy at the very least was speaking to him about the mission. A good percentage of Jim's version is misconstrued and as Spock said, Jim cannot help but believe it. Those chapters are, however, an important skeleton of what did happen and CANNOT be dismissed. I can't say that enough - part one is crucial because it lays a foundation of events but most importantly, it's JIM's viewpoint!!! It all plays a great deal into his recovery! Not only that, but Part One shows you how strong this Re'an barrier is in Jim's mind and how complicated the meld was and how his fears were becoming real in his mind...And THAT in itself should be a good clue that recovery will be a long, hard road.
> 
> I will leave much up to your imagination about what really did occur until/as I address certain parts. You've already gained some insight to what isn't true: Jim did not make certain erroneous decisions leading to crew deaths, and 'it appears' that McCoy and Jim did not experience difficulty in their friendship except for what occurred in Jim's mind, which he now believes to be true. That said, the McCoy/Kirk friendship is still very much a problem and how they resolve it will take patience - and time. Truthfully, it may never be resolved in Jim's mind, but at this point, I will not confirm that one way or another. 
> 
> Jim's predicament isn't even 100% clear to you yet, but it will be soon. Part Two will answer your questions in due time!!!! Realistically, I won't cover all that had manifested in Jim's mind but you will see how it all pulls together. I will provide additional "real" scenes as we continue. At some point, Captain's logs will come in handy to give you - and Jim - a timeline, but that will be a little awhile. Certain events must take place and steps taken on this difficult journey before Jim is even given the opportunity to hear those logs. He's in a very vulnerable place, and that will become clear when he awakens. 
> 
> If you are wondering about Jim being Re'an - in the Re'an's eyes, he is one of them because they had chosen him and melded with him. In his eyes...well...you will soon find out. 
> 
> I said this part was going to be different...and I think you now know how very different I meant. Despite that, it has the hurt/comfort you've been waiting for, and the Triumvirate growing and working together in an unprecedented way.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that the middle scene in this chapter is Jim's present POV in his catatonic state, as his mind is mixing what truly happened with manifestations provoked by the Re'an meld. The boy's 'voice' is bolded.
> 
> This chapter reveals something I've been wanting to explore for a long time! See the note at the bottom for more on this...

The doors opened to his office, but McCoy sat at his desk with his head in his hands, staring at the numbers before him, a third cup of coffee at his fingertips. He didn't have to look up to know who his visitor was. The Enterprise crew had begun shore leave the previous day after Spock deemed it safe to beam to an unpopulated planet in a star system near Re'an V. McCoy knew very well the commander's decision was not a coincidence. It provided an excuse for the command crew to continue working on Jim's case, without a mission in place and with Spock's mind on Jim, where it naturally stayed, instead of straying elsewhere.

"Mr. Scott has informed me the prototype glove for the captain's hand is almost ready."

McCoy looked up suddenly. That was ahead of schedule and the piece of good news he needed to begin his day. "He worked all night, didn't he?"

Spock gave a clipped nod. "Most diligently."

"Good." McCoy sighed. "I will feel better once Jim's hand is fitted and manipulated with this device. He's too quiescent, even though the therapist is working with him daily. His muscle mass already..." McCoy stopped. Spock's face had paled. "The meld's affects. You still feel them?"

"Yes," Spock said, stretching the one word into a tightly held string ready to be plucked.

McCoy considered this in silence, wanting to raise a question to Spock but not desiring to press the commander when he was clearly not feeling like himself.

"Proceed, doctor." Spock said stiffly.

"Spock, is it at all possible that a bond now exists between you two and you are simply not aware of it yet? And this is why you have not recovered quickly?"

Spock blinked. "That possibility did occur to me, although it was not my intention during any of the three melds with Jim."

"If it exists, even unintentionally, could you use it to drag Jim out of this mess?"

"I do not have sufficient data to give you a logical answer, doctor." Fatigue laced Spock's words. "As I have said before, the Re'an barrier in his mind is formidable."

"It has been three days since that last meld, Spock. Have you been able to meditate? Sleep at all?"

Spock remained silent.

"I'm giving you a sedative tonight, Spock," McCoy scowled.

"It is not unusual to continue to feel effects, but..." Spock hesitated. "I do not think I will know with certainty whether a bond exists if or until the Re'an barrier in his mind has dissolved."

"We must continue to talk to him, and I don't mean just you or me or Uhura. Everyone, Spock."

"All crewmembers of the Enterprise, as well as Soona?"

"If it will bring him back, yes. He needs to hear for himself that we didn't leave him behind." It was the only thing that made sense in McCoy's mind. If the melds were not a plausible choice and neither were any other manipulations of Jim's brain, they had to depend on one truth - that Jim Kirk would never give up. There was fight in him somewhere.

Spock stood, hands clasped behind his back. "Jim believes Dr. Jahnas to be dead. Is it wise to subject him to her at this time?"

Although it was a valid question, McCoy was too tired to admit he agreed with the Vulcan and question that very idea himself. McCoy straightened, a pensive look on his face. "I don't know. I think...if he feared her death, then he may care for her beyond friendship. It could come as a shock to him, but he isn't reacting to anything now, now not even to my touch because of his condition, so it may be alright. We won't know until we try."

"He believes you to be angry with him."

"Yeah, and before he lost his sense of touch his heart rate increased each time I touched him," McCoy didn't bother to hide his worry. "He's possibly frightened, Spock. Of me."

Spock arched a brow. "That fluctuation is not a precise indicator of his particular emotions. I am referring to what I saw in the meld."

"It means something, Spock." McCoy then backtracked. "And...maybe we should wait to involve Dr. Jahnas. Seeing her alive will only bring up questions from Jim once he is out of this state...questions we cannot answer yet. It would be too overwhelming."

"That is a logical decision. Lieutenant Uhura would like the opportunity to sit with the captain again."

McCoy stood, grabbing his PADD in a single sweep. It was early for his shift, but he had no time to waste and made his way to the captain's private room in sickbay with Spock close behind. "Good. We can start with others from the senior crew after that."

Spock nodded. "She is already on her way. She also feels it is imperative to speak with you as soon as possible."

"Oh?" McCoy swallowed, entering Jim's room ahead of Spock. "Why is that?"

"She theorizes that the Re'an melds exert far more influence than simply the transfer of memories. We have observed this too, in the way that Jim's brain reacts to the falsified ones. The Re'ans may, in fact, transfer the very characteristics of their species through the meld and thus modify and mold the subject's will. In his weakened state, Jim would be most impressionable and his mind would be most susceptible to the alien influence." The commander folded himself into a chair in a corner of Jim's room. "She has calculated the influence of such a meld and projected patterns that Jim's thoughts and behaviors would exhibit. She would like to present them to you, as she has presented them already to me."

A nurse was in the process of replacing the IV fluids, and McCoy could see on the monitors that Jim was waking up for the day. Still, he paused and gave the commander his full attention.

"He's not going to act like a captain, our captain, is he?" A new hollow place carved in McCoy's heart.

"She believes that may be the case, yes. Logic dictates that we must be prepared for this possibility and plan our interactions with Jim accordingly." Spock's gaze locked with his. "To put it bluntly, doctor, we must assume that Jim will not be thinking and acting as a human, but as a Re'an."

"Dammit," McCoy whispered, instantly trying to shake the disturbing thought from his mind before it shook him.

Jim began to awaken. McCoy spoke softly to the still-unresponsive captain, but stopped short when Jim's eyes opened. Jim's eyes were clouded, but for the first time there was a hint of another color -peach.

Spock lurched from his chair. "Dr. McCoy."

"I know." Despite his worry, which had now quadrupled or maybe multiplied by a thousand, McCoy pulled himself together to maintain the same professionalism he'd somehow managed the past thirteen - now sixteen - days. "It could correlate with his blindness."

He clenched his jaw, knowing that was highly unlikely. It was more likely that he and his medical instruments and tests had missed something that was affecting Jim's system. Or...McCoy swore. The alien blood. He made a note of the development on the PADD and immediately ordered a complete blood workup, as well as an eye scan.

* * *

 

The Re'an left him again and by this time, Jim had no desire to guess when they'd come back to begin the meld. He didn't have a desire to think about it, either. He just...was. So when the name Bones' came to his mind again, he latched on to it. The doctor's name lingered, a remnant of his faded resistance and hope. The name trembled upon Jim's lips as he feebly attempted to keep the name alive. _"Bo-"_

**Captain Kirk.**

The break in his mind came unexpectedly as forewarned, upsetting and causing all of Jim's thoughts to tumble lightly. It was the Re'an chosen one.

_Please. Wait? I need Bones, to tell I'm sorry._

He couldn't protest, couldn't tell them to stop, whomever it was about to steal his memories...and he panicked when he realized he may not even want them to stop after all.

**I cannot wait. Our people are degrading at a rapid pace. I will not hurt you.**

The intruder pushed him aside, a soft hand at first but becoming stronger and casting him aside. It ripped open the curtain which hid the painful things better left untouched.

He might have no resistance, but somehow Bones slipped out first. Satisfaction filled Jim when the argument with the doctor practically pummeled the intruder. Jim also watched in surprise. He wasn't trying to fight this interloper. The memory was doing that for him. It swung, hit, slashed, and kicked. The intruder bent under the beating.

**Stop it.**

_I can't._

**Your friendship is in the way. I can't get past it. Stop.**

_I can't. Jim couldn't. I can't fight. Remember?_

**Stop!**

The cry echoed in Jim's mind, a small sound striking him as peculiar. Jim watched, helpless and confused as the intruder and his memory tugged and pulled. The intruder wasn't as strong as Jim thought. But neither was Jim. His memory of sickbay was slowly being twisted and mixed in with other things catapulting from behind the curtain and new things the meddler brought with him that he wanted Jim to know.

_Bones._

Jim whimpered, this new presence eliciting a fresh, mental anguish. Hadn't they told him this wouldn't hurt? The meddler pushed more of Jim aside, trying to get past Bones, but not before he had a glimpse of him. Now even more confused, Jim's presence in his own mind weakened again. This wasn't right. _It wasn't supposed to be a child._

The scene in sickbay pounded them both, and Jim heard once more the enraged words storming from the doctor's lips and the defensive ones from his own. The child tried to back away but Jim's impassioned words swept over them both. _'My past is my business. Not yours. Leave it alone, Bones!'_

Desperate, Jim reached out a hand, but found nothing.

Nothing. Jim whimpered. He needed to say he was sorry to his friend. He was ready. _'Everyone has a past, Jim, and you have to recognize that yours effects you to this day. Your control is unraveling, Jim.'_

Jim relented. He'd do what the doctor wanted him to do and let him help. He reached with all he had left, for Spock, for Bones, and again for his friends - but it was futile. The child wanted to see more and give more of the Re'an to Jim -

**It's the Re'an way.**

Darkness threatened closer, and Jim was overwhelmed with thoughts the child placed in the crevices of his mind. He couldn't stop the intruder-child and watched helplessly. Until...like the last bit of sunlight reaching out of the sunset...Bones' words, although harsh, echoed once more. _'Get the hell out of my sickbay!'_ The child whimpered along with Jim, stopping what he was doing. Children weren't supposed to get hurt like this. Jim knew this. All his memories were painful, especially the one. He couldn't allow the intruder-child to find it. But he had no choice. How could a child be the one? It shouldn't be a child...

But Jim knew the intruder-child would find it eventually.

**Find what?**

_Tarsus._

**Tarsus?**

The intruder shrieked.

Jim hated to be reminded of his time in Tarsus. He didn't want to be reminded but most of all, he didn't want a child to find it. He couldn't fight against this intruder.

But he knew who could.

* * *

 

Uhura spent hours talking to Jim, many times recounting Spock and McCoy's vigilance in rescuing him from the Re'an and Jim's own bravery when he allowed the snakes to wrap around him and him alone, all for the sake of his crew. It was more time than McCoy expected from any of the crew member, but this was Uhura...communications officer, Jim's friend, and Spock's wife. He had faith that whatever Jim heard, it helped.

"I'm sorry," Uhura whispered to McCoy on her way out. With tender concern, she looked back at the captain's unresponsive form. McCoy knew to what she referred - it appeared that he'd lost his friend just as much as if Jim had died - but he couldn't force himself to answer. He knew she was sorry. Everyone was sorry. McCoy was sorrier than anyone, and he blamed Spock for that and for the nightmares and sleeplessness he had for the past few nights.

"I wish ya had never told me a damn thing what Jim was thinkin' in those melds," he grouched to Spock, who decided moments ago to literally camp out in Jim's room as he himself recuperated.

"I would not have mentioned it had it not been crucial to his health. You are his attending physician."

"I know," McCoy snapped. He planned to move Jim on his side for a brief time to avoid an accumulation of bed sores, calculating how to manage that with the various IVs connected to him. Not to mention that Jim's thigh required more attention as did the cerebral swelling. The process was slightly challenging and McCoy needed Christine and another nurse to assist.

"You have done nothing to harm Jim emotionally, doctor."

"But I have. You yourself told me that the way our friendship deteriorated in his mind is as real to him as this moment is to us." He turned around and allowed Christine and another nurse closer proximity to their silent patient. "And when he comes out of this, what new obstacle will I have to overcome in order to reach him?"

"I am uncertain, doctor, other than what Lieutenant Uhura has suggested. However, we do know that for his overall well-being, we must not belittle his experiences as we assist in his mental retraining."

"I've wronged him," McCoy's chest constricted. "I've hurt him."

"You have not, Dr. McCoy," Spock said slowly. "It is a manifestation in his-."

_"Spock."_

At the whisper, McCoy turned on his heel and zeroed in on Jim. "Did he just...?"

"Yes, he did, doctor." Spock was already standing one foot away from the bed, dark eyes trained expectantly on Jim's face.

Christine, eyes wide, looked at McCoy as he approached. "He's still here, Dr. McCoy."

"Jim, it's Bones. Can ya hear me?" Out of habit, McCoy squeezed the captain's good hand. Jim did not react but continued to stare as if in a trance as he had for days. After a full minute the doctor let go of Jim's hand, but he wasn't without hope. Something had changed.

And then Jim whispered again. _"Bones."_

McCoy rested his hand on Jim's shoulder. "I'm here, Jim. We all are, right behind ya."

_"Spock."_

The barest hint of a reaction from their captain froze Spock and McCoy in place. Waiting impatiently, they watched as Jim's gaze flitted from the ceiling over to another indefinite spot on the wall. His body was present, some parts healing and others sadly the same, and his mind still appeared well beyond their reach, locked away behind the barrier the chosen one had built. Jim remained in a numbed state but finally had taken a first minute but important step out of it. McCoy had no doubt that somehow, Jim was holding on to the very ideal which defined him - that there were no such things as no-win scenarios.

"I knew you weren't giving up, captain," McCoy said softly. "And neither are we."

And maybe...McCoy glanced sideways at Spock, whose face reflected a deep concentration.

Spock took a deep breath. "I sense something peculiar pulling me as I pull back, although I cannot name or place it. Nor can I explain it. At this time, I am too weakened to process more." He paused and looked straight at McCoy, expression slightly bewildered. "Although it is rather opaque, doctor, perhaps I did, indeed, create a bond."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! Although Spock may be skeptical about it himself, he did create a bond with Jim...and I'm SO excited about this! You have no idea! It was one of the primary goals I had in mind as I wrote Indigenous. And yes, this is one of the things that I have been leading up to with all of my shenanigans...and the rest of the story will explore this bond even more. Right now, that bond is like a little seed...and it may take some to grow. Rubyhair - thank you for kindly helping me awhile back and answering questions I had about Spock and multiple bonds! :-)


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a big chapter - lots of things to unfold. It also marks the beginning of the hurt/comfort parts of the story...
> 
> From now on, real/true scenes that occurred on the Enterprise and on Re'an V will be separated by asterisks and "previously on the Enterprise" or "previously on Re'an V." The middle section is one such scene and represents a true part of the mission and also hints to what Jim could be thinking about in his catatonic state. It is NOT a flashback. These real scenes are for YOUR benefit as a reader to see what really went on. I will be revealing other parts later on as more unfolds.

Two days later, McCoy went through the motions on his sickbay rounds, all the while feeling the pull of one particular patient in the private room nearby. In the thirty minutes he had been apart from Jim the troublesome infection could have worsened. Rationally, he knew that his nurses would alert him to any problem, but in reality he couldn't bear to leave Jim alone, without his personal physician, one Leonard McCoy. He clenched his jaw and decided to pass the next two patients on to M'Benga.

Turning quickly, McCoy's step lurched, the room spinning around him. He tripped, nearly ramming his hip into the corner of a metal drawer. A hand gently clutched his arm as he righted himself.

"How much sleep are you getting, Leonard?" A woman's voice whispered discretely.

"Enough, Christine," he muttered under his breath, customary scowl fixed on his face.

"Really, doctor? You would scold the captain if he did this. Maybe some of the planet's sunlight would do you some good."

"Shore leave? With Jim like this?"

"That's my point exactly. You're going to run yourself ragged even before he comes out of this."

"Chris, I can't leave him. There's too much work to do and no answers."

"Leonard, you know that you are no help to anyone in this condition. The captain would want you to take a break to clear your head. Commander Spock has not left the captain's bedside today and Dr. M'Benga and I are capable of managing his care."

"He said my name."

"I know," she said gently. "and you have to trust that he'll say it again. He needs you, but maybe it's time to try a different voice. Dr. Marcus is on your list of approved visitors and is ready to come. Some time away and a short rest on the beach may be just the thing to revitalize you."

As tempting as a beach nap sounded, McCoy couldn't bear to leave the ship. However, handing Jim's care over to Christine briefly and allowing Dr. Marcus to visit was more reasonable. Jim had been enthralled by the Re'an missile. Maybe that would spark his awareness.

"He was quite impassioned by the damn symbol on the missile, wasn't he? Good thing, too. That obsession allowed that self-sacrificing idiot to discover the Re'an's ulterior motive early on, or we wouldn't be in this mess." McCoy attacked each word with a heavy dose of sarcasm, and rather than feeling relief, his spirits sank even lower. Jim had acted honorably and performed his duty, as he only would. McCoy could not expect less. Now it was his duty to care for the captain's broken mind and body.

Christine refused to budge. Finally, McCoy relented with a sigh.

"Fine. I can spare two hours, but I will remain on the Enterprise. I simply cannot give up anymore time than that. HQ has given me two more weeks to straighten this out."

Christine gave a small smile. "We are all rooting for him. He'll come around and when he does, you need to be more relaxed. He'll see right through you."

"Chris, he can't see." Each word fell deadened from McCoy's lips. "Our tests proved that."

She flushed. "You know what I am talking about."

He did, and he didn't know if it was possible for him to maintain any sort of facade. He couldn't help but wear his heart on his sleeve. "Yesterday, Lieutenant Uhura suggested we spoon feed the truth to him."

"What are you implying, Leonard?"

"The Re'an have been destroyed, by their very own hands before we could help them with an alternative. The manifestations told him Prince Lequa is his new father, and now Lequa is dead. The only survivor is Soona. This news will devastate him, no matter how badly they have treated him."

McCoy could not help but think of Spock, one of the now numbered Vulcans, who would understand this hardship of Jim's more than anyone. And if there was a bond, how much more that would help Jim.

"But, he will still be our captain," she said.

He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but Christine showed more optimism than he did right now. His hope that Jim would recover waned overnight as the weight of Uhura's knowledge crashed down on him. Even the possibility that Spock could somehow reach Jim through a bond no longer gave him much hope. Spock was greatly fatigued, and although he attempted to project thoughts of the truth of the Re'an mission, the chosen one's barrier in Jim's mind seemed more powerful than Spock. It did not bode well with the Acting Captain.

McCoy sensed her need for reassurance but was unable to provide it. "We're doing everything we can, but much of it will be out of my hands. I don't understand the Vulcan mind meld mumbo jumbo, but I'm putting my hope in it now. If Spock truly established a bond between their minds, it had better become clear soon. Uhura is working with our best psychiatrists to develop a plan to help Jim, to help Spock help Jim. If the impressions Spock gained from the melds hold true, Jim may be much more compliant than his usual self. We don't want to exploit that, but expect that he will fully cooperate with any therapy we attempt."

McCoy left unsaid his belief that a co-operative captain was the only good result of the disastrous Re'an meld.

**********previously on Re'an V*********

"Well, this isn't creepy or anything," muttered McCoy. He held a phaser at one of the two exits in the control room, trying to ignore the seven dead Re'ans who lay scattered and in their own blood. Spock quirked an eyebrow in response, pausing only briefly from his task. "They killed each other, even the civilian. We slipped in and weren't a threat. Why the hell would they do that?"

"Disorder and violence," Spock said evenly. "They are confused."

"And Jim's memories are supposed to help them with this?" McCoy tightened his grip on the weapon."God Almighty, if they only knew."

"They will soon," Spock replied without blinking.

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

"It was not spoken to benefit your health, doctor."

"You can't take much longer, Spock." McCoy watched both doors warily from behind a larger console.

"It is an advanced algorithm."

"If they know we're outta of our cell, they'll kill 'im." McCoy's accent thickened.

Spock straightened and set dark eyes upon him. "Dr. McCoy, I could work faster in silence."

"Or, ya could send me along. Maybe I'll -"

"Negative," Spock bent over the console.

McCoy scowled. Of course he was right. They had to work together, especially now that they knew the Re'an were incredibly unstable. Working together they had easily stunned the guard entering their cell as McCoy feigned illness, convincing the Re'an that the antidote had failed. That was so simple it almost scared the doctor, but this, not even knowing where Jim was and risking their captain's life? It was the straw that broke the camel's back.

He hedged towards the door, anxious. "Spock, please."

"Doctor-"

"Spock, we need to find Jim before-"

A steady beep came from the console. McCoy halted.

"Dr. McCoy, as I was saying," Spock glanced up at McCoy. "The shields are down. Security is on their way."

McCoy could have cried. "Let's get our captain."

**********end scene**********

McCoy fled down the corridor. As he had half-hoped and half-feared, Jim's condition had changed while the doctor was away from his side. McCoy charged into sickbay with a burst of energy and renewed sense of purpose after his short respite.

"The shields are down," Jim murmured, eyes closed tightly, hiding him from the world. "Shields down."

"Has he acknowledged he's heard you speaking to him, Dr. Marcus?" McCoy rushed out, peering at the monitors. Jim's brain activity had spiked tremendously. "Nurse Chapel? Anything at all?"

"No, Dr. McCoy."

"How long has he been repeating that?"

"Four minutes, but that's only the eighth time he's spoken the phrase."

"Spock," McCoy frowned, seeing the increase of Jim's heart rate. "Did he see your memory of us sneaking into the Re'an control room?"

"I did not think it was feasible, as I could not penetrate further into his mind." Spock's shoulders couldn't possibly stiffen even more. "However, upon gaining some of my strength back this afternoon, I attempted to project thoughts about our escape."

"That sure sounds like a bond to me," McCoy murmured. "You really did penetrate further than you first thought, Spock."

"I believe you are correct, Dr. McCoy," Spock said in quiet acknowledgement.

"Bones?"

McCoy knew immediately that it was a question spoken free from Jim's catatonic state. After giving Christine a gentle but pointed look, the nurse and Carol scurried from the room before Jim fully awakened. 

McCoy glanced down at him as a look of panic appeared on the captain's face. "I'm here, Jim."

"Bones? Spock?" Jim furrowed his brow. "The shields...they're...Bones?

"Yeah, kid." McCoy disabled the stasis around the biobed and proceeded to strap down Jim's limbs. "We're both here with ya."

"Where are you?" Jim's eyes widened, making him appear even more vulnerable. "Where am I?"

"I'm here, right beside you," McCoy laid his hand on Jim's shoulder. "You're in sickbay."

"Sickbay? I don't know what that...But..." Jim swallowed, eyes darting towards McCoy but never looking straight at him. "I can't see you."

"No," McCoy didn't sugar coat his reply, knowing Jim had to at least acknowledge his blindness. "Ya can't, Jim. Do you remember what happened?"

"You're accent's too thick. Like it was in that control room. You and Spock." Jim blinked. "You're upset."

The control room. The Re'an control room? It had to be. McCoy briefly shut his eyes in relief. Spock had brought their captain back.

"I'm fine, Jim. Right now, though, we need to talk about you and why you can't see me."

"They blinded me. I know that. I remember."

"I'm gonna fix it."

Jim frowned. "But it was necessary. To teach me. And, I think that I'm...that I'm supposed to be there. Not here."

Necessary? Nausea rolled in waves in McCoy's stomach and his fury reached a new level. Necessary for brainwashing, he silently raged at the intricacies of the Re'an meld.

"No, you need to be here because you were severely injured and they can't fix ya like I can." McCoy exchanged a look with Spock, deeply disturbed as Jim accepted his fate in Re'an fashion and showed no concern over his blindness.

Jim was silent.

"Jim?"

"Then you'll take me back?"

The tension in the room was crushing.

McCoy thanked his lucky stars Jim could not see his face right now - nor Spock's. Guilt then flooded him. Being thankful that Jim was blind? What was he? An idiot just like his heroics-wielding captain? McCoy wiped his eyes and squeezed Jim's shoulder, the action so innate he didn't even remember Jim couldn't feel it until a few seconds later. "When the time comes that you're healed, I'll take you where you need to be, okay?"

"But you're upset with me. You didn't want me in ...in...this place...this place of yours...I'm not sure what sickbay is...but..." Jim furrowed his brow. "You threw me out. It works out for the best now."

Shocked, McCoy stared at Spock, as they both were blind-sided by this new development.

Jim, who had been here a million times, whose presence in sickbay was more familiar to McCoy then his own mother's first name...didn't know 'sickbay'? More nauseated than ever, McCoy had to take a moment to collect himself.

"Jim, I'm sorry," McCoy said haltingly. His heart wrenched in two at Jim's confusion but even more as he prepared to play along with Jim's misconceptions regarding their friendship. "You don't know how sorry I am."

"Bones, I needed you," Jim whispered. "You never came. The Re'an did."

McCoy was sitting as close to Jim as he could, stroking the captain's head before those hurtful words escaped Jim's mouth. "But I'm here now, Jim, and so is Spock."

"Spock. I thought I heard him earlier. Bones," Jim said hoarsely. "I...I'm...sorry."

"No, I'm the one who's sorry," McCoy interrupted. Remembering what was best for Jim, he didn't exactly clarify what he was sorry for. "For everything, Jim."

"But..but you're angry with me, and it's my fault," Jim's panic-filled eyes fixed on a spot beyond McCoy's shoulder. To McCoy's horror, Jim had somehow managed to move his body away in the leeway the straps had given him, shirking in his fear. Jim gulped a breath. "I'll...I'll talk about whatever you want. Just...please, don't yell at me. Please, Bones-"

Heart sinking once again, McCoy stopped him as gently as he could. "Let's talk about that later, Jim, alright?"

"Okay," Jim said in a small voice.

He hated the compliance Jim was exhibiting, but McCoy had no choice. He had to direct the conversation the best way for Jim's mental health - and Spock looked like he'd just swallowed a Gorn. "Right now, that isn't important. I'm here and I'm not leaving ya. Spock isn't leaving you, either."

"I've been so alone." Jim's face scrunched up in confusion. "I'm...I've been..I'm not sure what exactly. I can't seem to be able to think all too clearly. Some things are a little confusing. Prince Lequa will explain to me once you take me back."

The world caved in around McCoy. He was certain now that Jim did not remember his captaincy. He certainly didn't remember his crew. The old Jim would have inquired about his crew immediately.

His brother...his captain...the man he went in the black with...was gone.

McCoy drew a shaky breath. "I know your mind's a bit hazy. Cluttered, even, and that may be how you feel for awhile but no one is going to harm ya, Jim. I promise we will help your mind clear, alright?"

"Okay. But, I need to see them, Bones. They're...we're okay, right? They took what they needed from me and are alive? They must be waiting for me, Bones."

"I know you've been alone, Jim." McCoy bravely ignored the mention of the Re'an. It was a battle for Jim that he was not going to lose and he proceeded to give something familiar to Jim that the Re'an never gave Jim - a southern doctor's comfort. "But I gotcha now, Jim. In fact, I'm holding your head against my chest, my hand ruffling your hair."

Jim didn't answer, and McCoy watched as the captain struggled to speak. McCoy realized what went unsaid between the two of them was running through Jim's mind - that Jim couldn't feel a single thing and Jim knew that McCoy knew very well that Jim couldn't feel.

"You usually stroke my head when everything's gone wrong and I need you to fix things. Like that? Are you combing your fingers through my hair to comfort me?" Jim whispered, the wariness in voice unmistakable.

"Yeah," McCoy gruffed, barely kept his own tears in check as his hand rubbed Jim's smooth, shaven head. The lack of the captain's locks stung. "Just like that."

"Bones, but I don't...they took..." Jim's voice trembled, as if he'd scraped the last bit of tenacity he had to share one more thing that the Re'an had done to him. "They took it all, Bones. I don't have any...any hair...left. It's gone."

McCoy's heart caught in his throat at the crestfallen expression on Jim's face and then the hint of despair in Spock's eyes. It wasn't about the hair...

"It's gone. It's all gone," Jim whispered, his shoulders rigid, battling a sob he tried to hold at bay. It was the Re'an way, acceptance of the very way the wind blew. No questioning. No tears. None, because the peace in their society made certain the beings never required those things.

McCoy swallowed painfully. It wasn't the hair...it wasn't that. _It was about Jim._ Jim knowing something had changed about him - but having no idea what that was.

Spock closed his eyes, and if McCoy didn't know any better, was projecting something to Jim. Peace? Calmness? As Jim's shoulders fell and he let out a slow breath, McCoy understood. The bond between Jim and Spock had strengthened but by how much, he didn't know.

"I d...don't...understand what happened...to me, Bones...Spock...it's gone..." Jim struggled to speak, eyes heavy and fluttering shut.

"It's all the same to me, Jim," McCoy took a deep breath. "Hair or no hair. It doesn't matter. What matters to us is this: you're in my sickbay, safe, and you're still as strong as ever. We will help you work through this. I promise. No one is leaving ya."

McCoy silently vowed that Jim would be who he once was, even if it was the last thing he did in the forsaken black.

A grimace flashed across Jim's face.

"Jim? What's wrong?" McCoy frowned.

"'M tired," Jim mumbled

"It's okay to be tired. You've been through a lot recently."

Jim mumbled an incoherent reply, and McCoy could not catch each laborious word. "You want to know if...you can sleep?" He guessed, disbelief racing through his mind that Jim felt the need to ask permission to do so.

"Mm hmm," Jim let out a long sigh.

"Sure, buddy. Go right ahead," McCoy gently replied. Jim's breath evened and he soon slumbered, seemingly exhausted by his brief reemergence into the real world.

The commander continued in his focused silence. McCoy furrowed his brow for a moment while an idea twisted in his mind. He didn't know what to think of it and when Spock finally opened his eyes, he asked quietly, "Spock. That was you, wasn't it? Making Jim fall asleep?"

Spock nodded. "Yes."

"Why?" McCoy asked incredulously.

"While exploring the potential of the bond between us, it became evident that I could do so."

"What? You've got to be joking. Spock, you're toying with him? For the love of-"

"You misunderstand," Spock interrupted. "He was receptive to our bond even if he himself did not recognize it. Based upon the course of the discussion, I concluded that sleep would benefit the captain at this time and therefore I directed his brain to cause his sleepiness. When he did not appear to protest to that and the Re'an barrier did not oppose my invasion, I continued to bring him to that point. Doctor, if I can consistently and assertively utilize the bond's strength, it will aid in dissolving the Re'an barrier."

"By demonstrating dominance?" McCoy's anger swelled. "By manipulating Jim?"

"Although I would not describe it that way...yes. Doctor, I do not take this lightly."

"Neither do I," McCoy snapped. "I can think of a million reasons to stop you. For one, now you're changing the dynamic of your relationship with Jim even more. Without his consent!"

"You raise two concerns, doctor." Spock arched a brow. "Do you want the captain to return to us, or would you prefer that we allow him to remain but a shell of himself? In his current state he barely remembers the man he was as captain while striving to become something - someone - that he is indeed not, nor is he capable of satisfying that compulsion."

There was no question McCoy wanted Jim to return to them. It was the cost that was troubling. With difficulty, McCoy swallowed his fear of the repercussions. Spock was right; this was most likely the only way to get their captain back. When he considered what Jim would do if he were in their shoes, he believed it would be the same.

"Is he still there, Spock? He didn't even question the well-being of his crew. Not a mere mention."

"I saw remnants of who he is and the now desolate places devoid of what he has been forced to shroud." Spock said simply. "Since I saw much of him during the earlier melds with Jim, I believe those pieces are hidden and closely guarded by the Re'an barrier, but not taken by the chosen one."

McCoy stared at Spock, hardly able to voice his concerns. "The crew? His ship?"

"He has forgotten he has a crew, doctor, but he knows his friends."

"And...Jim?" McCoy couldn't breathe. "His captaincy?"

Spock's eyes flickered. "The manifestations clearly portray him as a captain. However, when he was awake, non-catatonic, and still unaware of his command, I can only surmise that the chosen one buried this particular memory deep inside Jim's mind. While forgotten, I believe it can be restored with care once the Re'an barrier is eliminated."

"What's your plan?" McCoy saw it in his expression. A calculating determination that never failed the commander before. The longer Jim remained unfeeling, uncaring and passive, the more removed from the captain of a starship he would become and the more difficult it would be to reach the real Jim. Spock had to take decisive action sooner than later, before all hopes of reaching the captain was lost. "If you could provoke him to sleep, your strength must be returning and you will soon be able to do more for him."

Spock replied with the last answer McCoy ever expected to hear from a Vulcan. "I will use this bond to teach Jim how to feel, doctor. It is the most logical thing for me to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jim is very damaged, and as we continue you will understand more and more the negative effects the meld had on Jim. There are many. One scene like this cannot reveal everything. 
> 
> Sadly, "captain" and anything relating to that has been stripped away from Jim and pushed behind the Re'an barrier, leaving only barren memories. As a kindness to Jim the author is letting the "manifestations" in his mind be mostly vague for now, although they ARE what he believes. Jim is very vulnerable and must go through a period of relearning and rediscovery. Once he recalls these manifestations that were so prevalent in his mind for almost two weeks - it may or may not be a pleasant experience. Also, although McCoy and Spock are working with Jim's best interests at heart, one or both of them may make decisions that may bite them from behind later on.
> 
> But the good news is this wonderful bond with Spock, even though right now, Jim is unaware of it. It will be absolutely priceless as Jim is rehabilitated. The good news is that Jim's friends are determined to work together and more determined to see their captain returned to them. 
> 
> A note about the bond between Jim and Spock - I am NOT writing a dominant Spock in this story (and this is friendship, anyway, here). The ONLY reason for this assertiveness/plot point is to show that Spock will attempt to wear down the Re'an barrier in Jim's mind using their bond. I really want this bond and relationship to be an even one between captain and commander. 
> 
> One final note for this chapter, or part two and three of the story, actually. You may have noticed I changed McCoy's speech a bit to deepen his accent. I've done that purposefully to indicate a 'warmer' McCoy in this second part. Plus....I don't know. I like hearing his southern accent in my head, too. I do think it would deepen as he is caring for Jim at this time. I promise not to over do it. :-)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 22 through 24 do go together quite nicely, so you are in luck today. Seven chapters posted instead of five.
> 
> First part is Uhura's POV, but yeah! Then there is a scene with Jim/McCoy/Spock. And a little h/c thrown in, too.

Nyota peered through the xenozoology department doorway, looking for Dr. Jahnas. A sliver of light that flickered in the rear of the room barely pierced the darkness. Dr. Jahnas had begged to visit Jim upon his return to the Enterprise days earlier but McCoy had denied the request. Her insistence only increased two days ago when the news spread like wildfire that the captain had emerged from his catatonic state. And now, now that the captain had 'awakened,' the xenozoologist latest request hinted of desperation or possibly regret and bordered on insubordination. Because neither Nyota nor Spock could make sense of her extreme reaction they concluded it made sense to have Nyota speak with Dr. Jahnas and help settle any concerns she may have.

She expected to meet only Aleyah, as many others in the department were enjoying their time on shore leave, but Soona stood next to her. The women were quietly watching the Re'an snakes that had been collected from the planet for observation. Aleyah wore gloves along with her labcoat. As Nyota approached the women she immediately noticed not all twelve creatures were contained within the large glass box.

"Where are the others?" Although Nyota did not jump to conclusions that the xenozoologist had mishandled the snakes, her eyes darted around the room looking for the missing creatures.

"Of the twelve we brought on board, only these seven remain." Aleyah'a eyes narrowed as she kept watch over the creatures. "Initially their symptoms mimicked a virus or indicated a reaction to the new environment, but further tests revealed that there is nothing medically wrong with them."

Soona touched the glass, her fingertips tracing the line of the snake closest to her. It slithered languidly until jerking in a sudden, grotesque twist as if a hand clutched its body with one powerful squeeze.

Aleyah frowned "See? It shouldn't be doing that. They are elegant creatures, just like the Re'an are elegant beings. That movement is uncharacteristic of them."

"That is one of the symptoms," Soona said quietly.

Aleyah's shoulders stiffened and she, too, pressed a hand to the glass, her expression almost longing.

"Symptoms?" Nyota questioned.

"They are worsening, for some much quicker than for others."

"The snakes are dying," Nyota said in surprise.

Soona's eyes reflected regret. "Those five perished not one hour ago, one right after the other in swift succession. They were the oldest. Each one of these creatures require the Re'an to survive. Their presence...their very powers are connected on a level none of us understood until now." Soona gathered her next words in a painful breath. "I am not a true Re'an. I am not indigenous to their species."

"And neither is Captain Kirk," Nyota murmured.

Soona crossed her arms, staring at the creatures. "I must embrace my human side now. There's nothing left for me to do."

"This is difficult for you. It will be difficult for the captain," Nyota said. If Jim knew about the relationship between the now extinct Re'an and the dying creatures, it could help him embrace what he already was - human. She frowned. No, that wouldn't do. On top of everything else, including the therapy Spock wanted to initiate the next time Kirk was awake, it could prove to be too much. If they pushed too hard and too fast, he would in turn rely completely on his Re'an tendencies and the culture would further imprint in his mind.

"I'm tied to these creatures, and so is he, so yes...it will hurt." Soona pulled her hand away from the glass. "These may survive only two more weeks, at most. One by one the creatures will die, but he and I will not."

Aleyah gave Nyota a hesitant glance. "Being that the captain cares on some level about these creatures, I would think that he needs to know. If he discovers this knowledge was kept from him, it would be even more upsetting to him later on."

Unlike her companions, Nyota was sufficiently informed of Jim's condition to know for a fact that it would deeply upset him. "I don't believe Captain Kirk is even aware that the snakes are aboard the Enterprise."

 _He's not even aware he is Captain,_ she added silently. That particular information she kept to herself, per Spock and Dr. McCoy's request. More importantly, very few knew anything of the captain's condition. This was not because of distrust of the crew - there was no distrust - but a decision to meticulously care for the precarious needs of the captain.

Aleyah's eyes softened unexpectedly. "The poor captain. He has endured so much, and I imagine whatever injuries he sustained are serious or we would have heard. I fear I added to his trouble even before he returned to Re'an V."

Nyota arched a brow but the xenozoologist continued without noticing her curiosity. Nyota contemplated that the trouble may have to do with Kirk's decision to keep Aleyah grounded on the Enterprise after a couple days on Re'an V. She decided to press Aleyah for that information later, as well.

Aleyah sighed. "I will log my observations and inform Mr. Spock and Dr. McCoy of this development. I'm sure they will then decide the best, appropriate actions."

"Your captain may not ever be ready." Soona shook her head.

"Why not?" Aleyah trained wary eyes on the snakes.

"The Re'an meld effects are difficult to erase completely. I should know. It's been twenty years for me and time has taken care of only so much." Soona took a deep breath, the warning clear in her next words. "The pain from this...all of it...will last. Part of him will always be Re'an."

* * *

 

"Jim, the glove is fitted to your hand even when you sleep. It works on the hour. Right now it's working, and if...if ya happen to feel something pulling or hurting you, please let me know right away."

Jim weighed the words of the doctor in his mind. He wanted to ask if his adoptive father knew about this small detail, but considering the silence which he met after inquiring about such things a moment before, he decided to refrain. He also wanted to know how he sustained the injury, since Bones had glossed over that fact. He was only told that the broken bones and torn ligaments in his arm and hand had required aggressive treatment and now he required physical therapy. With his current limitations and ensuing recovery of several other injuries Bones had not explained, Jim was flat on his back and at the mercy of the very one who had abandoned him when he needed it most. It was the second day since he awoke, and it may have been only the fourth time that he'd opened his blinded eyes and spoken to Bones - but he wasn't sure. Jim continued to feel very confused and very alone and honestly a little frightened during the little time he was actually awake. He was thankful that other than the therapy they subjected him to, they had let him sleep most of the time, for time awake meant time spent thinking - altogether too much.

"Jim," Bones' voice held strain, just like it had each time Jim did awake. It was all Jim needed to hear to decide that the doctor had not told the truth. Bones really didn't want him here in his sickbay. "Did ya hear me?"

"Yes. It's fine." He couldn't feel it of course, but understood the doctor's cautioning.

More silence.

Even then, he did wrong. He took a deep breath. "Tell Mr. Scott thank you."

As soon as the words left his mouth, they hit his ears awkwardly. 'Scott' did not seem quite right. Was he supposed to call the engineer by something else?

"I will, Jim," Bones replied, Jim detecting a hint of forced cheeriness in the doctor's voice. "Now, I'm going to let Spock talk with ya about the other therapy."

"You're leaving?" He was slightly frightened of Bones and terrified of being yelled at again, but ironically, he didn't want the doctor to leave. He felt like a stranger on this ship, a ship he didn't even know why he was on in the first place. _The Re'an couldn't help him right now_ is what they'd said. Although he recognized that friends surrounded him, Bones was the most familiar person and he was leaving. Jim's heart raced for the first time since he'd awakened. It was not a good feeling. In fact, whatever else was happening to his body didn't feel too good, either.

Pain slammed into his chest, all becoming hot and heavy as he heard Bones in the distance.

"No, no, no. Hey, Buddy, stay with me." The words were rushed, accompanied by ringing in his ears and the sounds of alarms. In seconds, he felt as if water rushed over him, dragging him down to a deep, deep floor, his body slowly but surely sinking.

Bones's voice was raised but Jim was unable to decipher what was said as he sank deeper and further away. The ache in his chest expanded, the feeling so terrifying the ability to take a single breath eluded him. Jim felt himself quickly losing the battle and time stretched as he strained. A voiceless plea escaped from his throat as the air thinned from his chest.

"Jim, I'm not leaving. I promise," the doctor soothed in his ear. Jim gave a stuttered gasp. "I gave you tri-ox. It's gonna be okay. You'll be breathing fine again in no time."

A priceless wave of air filtered through his body. "That...hurt," Jim strangled out as the water and pain receded.

"Your chest?"

"Yes." He wheezed, sucking in another breath.

"I'm sorry, buddy. You were having a panic attack."

"Jim, do you feel pain anywhere else?" Spock's voice surprised him. Jim had almost forgotten he was there. "Your right hand, perhaps?"

"My hand?" Breathing almost evenly now, he attempted to check, focusing on his hand as the Vulcan seemed to suggest without actually suggesting to do it...and grew confused. "Why would my hand..."

His voice trailed off as something like an ax seemed to hit his right arm and splinter down to his fingertips. A string of vulgar words he didn't realize he even knew fell from his lips. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears springing from their corners. He alternated between panting shallow breaths and cursing anything he could think of.

"Spock? His pain's off the charts! What the hell just happened! Jim, I'm sorry. Up until now, you couldn't feel the pain from your arm and hand at all." Bones voice grew distant. Jim whimpered, helpless as the only person who could help him was leaving right when the pain intensified. "I know you're getting this pain in a concentrated dose, Jim. I'm gonna give you as much pain medication to you as I can safely. You're allergic to this one in higher dosages, but it's all I got for ya. Spock, if that was what I thought it was..."

"No...please...don't...go..," Jim said, rasping and instantly remorseful when he realized he should not be so assertive in his demands as a Re'an. Prince Lequa did well to teach him.

"Dr. McCoy will return." Spock's voice came quietly from his right side.

Unable to reply or even know if he was nodding or not, Jim attempted to work through pain that was even stronger than he'd had moments ago.

"I can help you work through your discomfort while we wait for Dr. McCoy."

Jim's face twisted into a grimace.

"Will you trust me?"

The back of his eyes stung with emotion he should push aside, and he felt a wave of darkness pulling him under with the pain. Would he forget to breathe again? Lose consciousness before Bones returned? It wouldn't be helpful to either Bones and Spock; he'd be more of a burden. Bones could still be angry with him. Jim wasn't entirely certain, despite the doctor's apology, but he selfishly wanted someone to trust completely. Bones had failed Jim when ...when he ...yelled at him because...because...Jim groaned with pain and frustration, unable to recall any specifics now, but it had been important and altogether, a heart-wrenching experience. He remembered Bones' anger and it struck his heart like a piercing arrow even now.

"Jim, I have never lied to you. You can trust me."

He chose to trust Spock. "Mmph," he groaned through gritted teeth.

"Open your mind. It is part of the therapy Dr. McCoy mentioned."

He obeyed, for that is what the Re'an did and so must he. He obeyed without truly understanding what exactly Spock had asked him to do, believing that cooperation the only appropriate action in this circumstance.

Something familiar trickled into his mind. Something familiar...and soothing. Jim wanted more and what was familiar urged him to take it. Little by little the soothing sensation grew larger than what had so destructively settled in his hand. Soon, Jim decided he was floating, the ax that had seemed to be tearing his hand apart no longer in sight.

"That's good," he whispered. Anything was better than feeling like a dull blade worked at sawing off his arm at the elbow or his hand.

"Can you feel your hand as you do when you are on the bridge? Without discomfort?"

The bridge? Jim blinked. What was the bridge?

"It is where you make important decisions, Jim," Spock said gently. "Trust me, as you always have. I've turned off the glove's capabilities to see how you can flex your fingers on your own. Can you clench your hand without feeling any pain?"

Jim still didn't understand, especially when Spock answered a question he hadn't even voiced, but he listened. He tried to squeeze his hand. It wouldn't cooperate. "No. I can't squeeze it."

"That is correct, Jim. You cannot, not without assistance from the therapeutic glove. Can you feel anything else other than pain in your hand?"

"Some type of...cloth?" Jim licked his lips, his mouth as dry as sand. This was work. Hard work. He needed water. Something smooth rubbed against his fingertips, and he spread his fingers the best he could to touch what felt like cool satin.

"Dr. McCoy will bring you water in a moment, Jim." Spock's voice, still gentle, now came from his left side. "That cloth is the glove touching your hand. It is smooth, as you already sensed."

"I'm feeling? With my hand?" Jim whispered.

"Yes, Jim."

"And I'm feeling my hand. And...my arm?" He hesitated. "And...that is okay?"

"Yes, it is perfectly fine. Jim?"

Vulcans didn't lie, so Jim allowed himself the satisfaction that he'd done well. And more than that, it was okay to feel. His hand at least. Just his hand and arm.

"Yes?"

"You can trust Dr. McCoy."

Jim frowned, waiting for clarification but a voice startled him.

"I'm back, Jim. I have your water."

Jim blinked in surprise at the doctor's silent return. The rim of a glass touched his lips and Jim allowed the straw to be placed in his mouth. He sipped, but in seconds was too exhausted to do more.

"The pain med is working as we speak, Jim. It'll take the edge off and you will soon be able to relax. After you rest for awhile, we will see about gettin' you some real food to eat." The doctor hesitated. "Jim, I'm glad you can feel your hand and arm. You did good. That's a huge step."

After Bones informed Jim he was adjusting the pillow under Jim's head and reiterated that it was time again to take a break, Jim didn't even mind that a twinge of the previous pain settled into his hand again. He could feel it - and that was all that mattered. It was a good thing to feel it - Spock said so and it seemed to please Bones. As Jim reveled in feeling the glove which molded to his hand, bickering began between the doctor and Vulcan that was oddly comforting.

"Spock, you conveniently forgot to mention the possibility of _that_ happening," McCoy hissed. "For Jim's sake, a little forewarning would've been nice."

"It was quite unintentional." Spock said, with an indignant air. "Do not forget the meeting in fifty-two minutes, doctor."

"Oh, don't you dare try and change the subject, Spock. And don't you dare stalk your green alien body outta this sickbay! We aren't finished. Unintentional? That's what you said the first time, ya hobgoblin..."

Jim decided they could figure out whatever it was that they needed to figure out without him and proceeded to ignore them both completely. Closing his eyes in the anticipation of sleeping, an almost imperceptible smile crossed his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although this will be explained in a chapter later on, I'm going with the idea that Jim is easily broadcasting his thoughts to Spock. I base this on the fact that Jim suffered greatly during the meld and does not have the mental control. Plus, I believe that some control in a bond must be learned.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, more questions answered. And...this chapter is really for McCoy, whose heart has been hurting maybe too much. Not that this chapter resolves anything, but the doctor does need a little TLC, too.

Silence hung uneasily over the conference room as Spock paused to allow for questions. Chekov had nearly fidgeted himself out of his chair in his eagerness to learn everything regarding the captain's predicament. McCoy now waited for the navigator to speak first, sensing the young Russian's need to satisfy his curiosity.

"Ze keptin doesn't remember us?" Chekov's woeful eyes scanned those around the table. "Not at all?"

"He does not remember he has a crew." Spock clasped his hands in front of him on the table as if the very action pained him. "However, he remembers each of you individually - as his friends."

"Why would zey do zomething like zat?"

Although he knew the answer - they probably all did - McCoy had asked why a million times already.

"Stripping the captain of his identity as a Starfleet officer allowed the Re'an influence to overwhelm his humanity. In his vulnerable state, they were able to impress the characteristics of their species upon him."

"Ze keptin...he fought?"

"Ach, the lad dinnae do anything else. It's in his nature," Mr. Scott spoke in earnest.

"Damn right he did," McCoy whispered.

"Because the captain fought during the meld, wanting to protect his tragic memories especially from a child, the chosen one acted maliciously towards him. I do not believe it was executed solely by the child but with direction from Prince Lequa himself. Nonetheless, the Re'an meld caused the captain's complications. I reiterate: at the present time, the captain is unable to recall his status as captain of this vessel. He does, however, remember his friendship with each one of you." Spock's gaze pierced each of the command crew. "You will be allocated time with him in hopes that your conversations will provoke authentic memories. However, I must have your word that you will not call him captain nor will this information go beyond those in this room. For the captain's sake, we will inform the rest of the crew at some indefinite time in the future. You will be tactful in your conversation and will not press him. Lieutenant Uhura has provided guidelines for us all. It is better he comes to know the truth gradually, just as we are working with his maladies in similar increments. He is also under strict medical regulations per Dr. McCoy's discretion. Limiting visitors is one such necessary priority at this time."

"I understand," Sulu said without hesitation.

"You have my word, Mr. Spock," Dr. Marcus replied, eyes wide and bright. Had he been here, Jim would have preened and later boasted endlessly to McCoy about the effect he had on Carol.

McCoy scowled. The old Jim would have done that. He doubted that the person Jim had become had the ability to comprehend the mutual attraction he had with a woman. Furthermore, the now meek and timid captain would not discuss it with anyone, let alone his friend. Although the boasting would be as annoying as hell, McCoy would do anything to hear it from a healed and whole captain.

McCoy glared at Spock, wanting to be out of this painful meeting and back at Jim's side where he needed to be.

Mr. Scott, after glancing curiously at McCoy, added, "Anything for the captain."

"Will he be who he was, someday? Our keptin?"

Spock looked at McCoy to reply but a lump grew in McCoy's throat, just as it had each time such questions raised in his own mind.

"Doctor," Spock prodded.

McCoy stopped glaring momentarily only to clear his throat. "I believe..." McCoy hesitated, seeing that the expression on each of Jim's crew - Jim's family - was so expectant. He stopped himself before falling short in his reply. He could sugar coat it or give them the painful truth. "It will take time and patience. He reacts much like a child at this point. He will never recover-"

Dr. Marcus drew a sharp breath. "Never? I don't understand."

McCoy sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, probably making it even more unruly than it appeared earlier when he caught his reflection. In his unpredictable morose mood, he had worded that entirely wrong. But as he spoke, his words lacked any luster whatsoever. "His bruises and wounds and bones are healing, with the exception of the few more serious injuries that will take time. But mentally and emotionally? Completely? I'm uncertain, but now that Spock has established a bond with Jim, through this low-level Vulcan meld, I can be more hopeful that he will recover and become the person we remember. Because his blindness and lack of touch sensation appear to have no medical cause, this is also our best hope of improving those conditions. I cannot say more at this time."

"And it is enough." Uhura's clear voice broke through the ensuing silence for the first time since the meeting began. "Your honesty brings clarity to the situation. The captain would not want us to dwell on what is gone. He would encourage us to move forward, and we will, but not without him. We will carry him through this. He would do no less for us."

"Aye," Scott leaned forward, nodding at McCoy. "Doctor, dinnae lose your hope."

"I never said I did." McCoy huffed.

"Aye, but ye did," Scott's eyes softened. "Without even sayin' it."

"I could tell you all what Jim has forgotten. Sickbay. The bridge. Things too numerous to mention. I could tell you that he is afraid of feeling anything that is more than what Spock permits him to feel. He believes that the Re'an rightly and justly inflicted his condition on him and through it all, he still trusts them." McCoy stopped, frowning down at his hands. "But the one thing that tears me up most inside? It's that he believes I am not the friend he thought I was, but I am the friend he wants and I cannot explain to him why. He believes it so fiercely I wonder if he has a valid reason for his distrust. Tell me, does that give you hope?"

"Yes, it does," Carol swiftly replied, a small smile forming on her lips. "It shows us that you will not stop until you prove to him you are that friend."

Uhura reached over and took his hand. "Your actions now speak louder than words, Dr. McCoy."

"And that's enough for you?" McCoy wondered aloud. He opened his mouth to speak again when a comm sounded.

_"Nurse Chapel to Dr. McCoy."_

"Yes, Chris." McCoy waited with bated breath, knowing it had to be about Jim for her to interrupt this meeting.

 _"The captain is awake. He's..."_ Christine hesitated.

"Go on, Chris."

_"His hand and arm are hurting him quite a bit, doctor. I believe it is the first time the captain ever admitted to me the amount of pain he is experiencing - and he remembers you said something earlier about 'real food' to calm the gnawing hunger in his stomach. The combination has been unsettling for him and I believe he needs you to come right away."_

"I'll be right there," McCoy said, glancing up at Spock. He offered a stiff but apologetic nod. "McCoy out."

"Before you leave, Dr. McCoy, I must tell you that you and Jim have a bond of friendship that is unrivaled," said Spock. "It is more than sufficient, doctor, indeed. Do not be discouraged. Just as you do not wish to fail Jim, he does not want to fail you. He senses your hesitation and frustration. It adds to his distrust."

"Why didn't tell me that before? Why the hell now, Spock?" McCoy rose abruptly from his chair, fists clenched at his side. "Spock, if he senses my frustration, it means I am not doing my job. If he doesn't trust me, that, too, could have a damaging effect on all we are trying to do for him. Do you realize what that could do? Dammit, Christine was right. Even blind, he is seeing right through me. He doesn't want to fail me? This is out of his control! He can't let me down. That's impossible. It's the other way around!"

Spock looked up calmly at him. "I did not inform you earlier because of the high probability that it would only prove to upset you more. Furthermore, sharing the information did not seem prudent - until now."

McCoy bit off a sarcastic reply when he realized he was being watched by every single pair of eyes in the room and proving Spock's point. He set his shoulders and glared at the Acting Captain as he strode to the door. He'd had enough. He had enough of hearing that Jim thought he was a friend who'd abandoned him at his greatest time of need. He had enough of seeing himself through Jim's twisted memory.

No more. He'd prove to Jim over and over that he was the brother Jim had hoped for and the faithful friend Jim deserved. He could never give up trying to fix Jim, nor would he ever stop showing Jim who he was to him. He'd do absolutely anything he had to fix their relationship. Anything. 

They were all watching him as he expected, but the only one he was concerned about observing him was in his sickbay, blinded in more ways than one. Physically, Jim couldn't see anything else but darkness. But neither could he see McCoy's allegiance to their friendship.

McCoy paused in his step as the doors slid open. "No matter what, despite the demands of HQ or anything else, I will not allow us to stop until Jim is once more the person he was destined to be - James Tiberious Kirk, captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise. Then, if when we have finished fighting for the essence of our friend and captain the resulting man includes a few alien tendencies none of us ever anticipated, then so be it. In spite of it all, he will be Jim. Our Jim."

* * *

 

Nyota had wanted to find McCoy and discuss the conversation she had with Aleyah, but time had not allowed for that. And now, seeing a beloved friend of theirs hurting so deeply, she could not sit back when she very well knew something that could be of help. She left the meeting with the promise to return and soon caught up with Dr. McCoy.

"Lieutenant," McCoy's brow rose. "I'm in a hurry."

"I know," she said, matching his swift stride. "I have information that you may be interested in, Dr. McCoy."

"Oh?" McCoy looked straight ahead.

"It sheds some light on the manifestation Jim had of your argument in sickbay," she said gently.

McCoy jerked his head towards her, scowling. "I'm through talking about that, Uhura."

"This will help, I promise," she pleaded softly. "Let me explain."

He hesitated but she could see the curiosity rising in his eyes. "I don't understand how anything you have to say could possibly help...but I'll listen."

She took a deep breath...

**********previously on the Enterprise**********

 

"Sir, may I have a word with you?"

The captain peered up at her, taking a momentary break from tying his boots, probably astonished that she had managed to skirted around both Dr. McCoy and Nurse Chapel. Aleyeh was aware that he had experienced an adverse, unprecedented reaction to the last inoculation, a complication exacerbated by his legendary allergies. She had carefully monitored sickbay channels and learned that the doctor has certificated him fit for duty, just in time for the captain to participate in the landing party. Aleyah knew that the captain was distracted by plans to safely extract Soona from the Re'ans' scheming hands and to evacuate the remaining members of the archaeology team. She was determined to be a part of those plans.

He looked better than when she'd last seen him, completely bed-ridden with gripping nausea. She had no business standing at the threshold of his private room, but she was running out of time.

"Dr. Jahnas," he said slowly. "Yes. You caught me just in time. I am about to accompany our security team to Re'an V."

"Yes. I know, sir. You will attend the Re'an banquet and extract Soona." The crisp words matched her purposefully detached expression. It was a far cry from the other night when they'd enjoyed an evening of friendship and a little bit of flirting while informally studying the drawings and behaviors of the Re'an creatures.

"What's on your mind, Dr. Jahnas?" Jim stood and grabbed his jacket to ward off the cooler temperatures of an Re'an V evening.

"May I speak freely, Captain?"

He very well knew that she never did anything but speak freely. He must be humoring her as he buttoned his jacket and nodded. "Please make it quick. I am scheduled to leave with security and others of the away team in five minutes."

"You may need my expertise regarding the creatures, especially if they are in the banquet room. Please, sir, allow me to accompany the away team."

"This banquet will not be a pleasant event if there are any complications. We must proceed cautiously to protect Soona and get her to the Enterprise in the least conspicuous way. Your expertise could, indeed, help us, Dr. Jahnas. In fact, I wish I could let you go." He took her arm and made the motion to escort her out of his room, his mind no doubt properly fixed upon the precarious situation on Re'an. "However, you know I can't allow that."

She stopped in her tracks in the hallway, demanding attention with a stare. He jerked to a stop. "Captain," she said through clenched teeth. "I have worked non-stop on this mission from day one. You prohibited me from attending the Re'an ceremony, a most rare occasion for any xenozoologist. We have spent extra time together debating every possible scenarios with these snakes - they're dangerous. They are dangerous to you and to me, I understand that. But you are going."

"Yes, I am going. Prince Lequa expects my presence and would be suspicious without it. I am also captain and responsible for the lives of my crew." He narrowed his eyes. "I will not allow you to accompany the landing team. It is too dangerous- as was the Re'an ceremony - and the risks far outweigh the good that you could do. You have done your job, going beyond what was asked of you and I am grateful. You've given us the information and we are appropriately prepared. Those snakes responded to us both - no one else. If what we deciphered about the symbol is correct and those creatures do in fact indicate the ones who have memories the Re'an need, they will want both of us. But the truth is that we don't know what to expect, we don't know why they need memories. Therefore, we do not have a solution for them and beaming down there a second time is already a risk. Dr. Jahans, I will not endanger your life unnecessarily."

"This is because of Gaila, isn't it?" She glared at him.

The captain took a step back as if stung by the false accusation but a mask of calm quickly covered his features. He once again appeared as in control of his true feelings as he was on Re'an V in the presence of Prince Lequa. He firmly replied. "No. It is not about her."

"Yes, it is," she insisted. "The reason that I'm even on your ship in the first place is because of her. You want to make sure I succeed in life- on a starship - because she didn't get the chance and now-"

"This is not the time, Dr. Jahnas," Jim said in a low voice. They were already drawing attention but it wasn't unusual for Jim to have to quickly douse a fire she started, especially in public. "Please desist or I will take appropriate action to discipline you."

She sweetened her smile, hoping that backing down slightly would change his mind. "I know you care for me, Jim, especially by the way you looked at me the other night. You must be concerned for my safety."

She relied on her old tricks. These were the tricks Gaila always warned her would get her nowhere with Jim, but the captain occasionally put his blinders on and chose to fall for them. She was certain Jim did care for her but he also cared for Dr. Marcus, which certainly could confuse the man. Aleyah was different from Carol, but both of them were strong and intelligent, qualities which she assumed intrigued the captain.

"Again, we will talk when I return." He dropped his hand from her elbow and stepped back. "This is for your safety, Dr. Jahnas. We are both aware that the creatures' sensitivity towards us is great, more than anyone else, making it very dangerous for us both. I cannot be concerned about your life and be distracted -"

"So you do care. Maybe that is interfering with your judgement. You know I am a valuable asset. Please, captain, allow me go with the team."

"Dr. Jahnas," he said quietly. "I do not need distractions while we are extracting Soona but more than that it is about your life. And this is clearly not the time for the type of discussion you want to have. You have disobeyed a direct order - expect disciplinary action upon my return. Right now, I suggest you leave sickbay before I do so we don't attract unnecessary attention or cause a scene."

"You did say I could speak freely, captain." It became harder to play nice when he was so stubborn - and probably right. She didn't care about the disciplinary action. Her desire to beam to Re'an V one last time overwhelmed any thought of her own safety.

"Dr. Jahnas, that is enough. Like I said, I suggest you leave sickbay - quietly." The captain barely contained his anger. Aleyah knew she was fortunate, for any other Star Fleet captain would have stopped her long before this point. Captain Kirk had graciously let her have her say, even as she dug herself in a hole. Maybe he hoped she would finally learn that he would not put up with it, even if they did enjoy a little bit of friendly flirting with each other off duty. She already knew he wouldn't put up with it, but she had to try anyways.

"You suggest I leave quietly," she snorted, planning to fight back in her own way. She hated that he was right to ground her on the Enterprise but realized that she could twist this to her own advantage in a different way than she first thought. He cared for her, but she would now make it difficult for him to win any chance of her affection. The captain loved challenges. Well, she was about to give him one. "Fine. I do see your point but I don't like being left in the dust. Expect for me not to like it for a very, very long time, Jim. That will probably make a certain blonde science officer very happy, but I don't care. Captain, I do wish you and the away team the best. Be careful, sir."

Tossing her head, Aleyah stalked off and left a flabbergasted captain in her wake.

 

 

**********end scene**********

 

 

Nyota finished relaying what Aleyah had said but McCoy's look of misery never cracked, as if he was dwelling on the quick, sound thinking Jim had and comparing it now to the man the Re'an meld had ravaged.

"This is what was scrambled in that brain of his. He was protecting Aleyah, but somehow I was made the bad guy in an entirely different situation." He scowled when she was done. "If I'd ever gotten my hands on them..."

She placed a hand on his arm. "Sadly, what happened to them in the end is worse than what you or I or anyone on this ship would have wished upon them, even as justice for our captain. But, yes, Spock also believes this is part of what was twisted in Jim's mind."

"Jim kept Dr. Jahnas from an experience just like his, or something worse." McCoy took a deep breath. "That much is certain."

"She is also aware of this. Spock has forfeited any disciplinary action in lieu of her humble acknowledgement of recent events and her heartfelt apology - and for crew moral. Unless, of course, Jim desires to pursue disciplinary action when he returns to command."

McCoy's eyes filled with pain.

"He will return to us." Nyota honestly believed Jim would return to them and she would hold on to this belief, if only to help revitalize the doctor's own hope. If McCoy lost any of his optimism, where would the rest of them be? "The manifestation was Jim's fear and this memory, which was twisted by the Re'an meld. It was out of your hands. The road to healing your fractured friendship will no doubt be challenging but with time, I'm sure the captain will come to understand."

"I won't blame him if he doesn't," muttered McCoy.

"Leonard..." Uhura said softly. 

"You know as well as I do that nothing is easy with Jim Kirk...and...we did have our moments." McCoy sighed. 

"Don't lose your hope," she pleaded gently, now worried about the new strain around his eyes. "He will understand...I am sure of it."

"Uhura," McCoy said, the lines around his face finally relaxing as they reached the doors of sickbay. It wasn't a smile, but it was close. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in a warm, tight embrace, gratitude and relief pouring from him. "Thank you."


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some good h/c in this chapter. Poor Jim. The h/c will be rolling in as we continue along...

Jim stared unseeingly at a spot in front of him. Nurse Chapel had been near him a minute earlier. He assumed she was now outside his private room and requesting McCoy's presence, but beyond that it was quite obvious to him that she was informing the doctor of something else. Exactly what she would be telling him he both didn't and couldn't know, or she would have stayed. Based on the fact that she left without explaining anything to Jim and from the strain in the doctor's voice when he was in earlier, Jim deduced that they were keeping plenty from him.

Secrets.

Answers.

The pieces he needed to fill the holes. He had none of those pieces, but they had them all.

He attempted to be disinterested but the longer he found himself awake, the more he was riddled with curiosity.

"Dr. McCoy will be here soon. For now, Mr. Kirk, I can continue massaging your hand to ease the cramping." Christine said softly. "Is that alright with you?"

"That's fine." Jim bit his tongue. 'Mr. Kirk' sounded like nails on a chalkboard but he didn't want to risk sounding rude by requesting to be called 'Jim.'

"Good." She proceeded, rubbing her fingers along the most painful parts of his hand first, the parts that never ceased their aching. Just like the holes in his heart and mind. He felt...empty. "It's alright to ask for Dr. McCoy, Mr. Kirk. This is his job right now - you."

Jim would gladly accept help from her or any other medical personnel - but Bones was on edge and Jim had a feeling it was because of him. However, his hand hurt so badly that his new penchant for silent protesting was already fading.

"I'm his job," he murmured. That was difficult to fathom but the idea was familiar. Still, Jim was greatly confused how one person could be someone else's job. "How long have I been in sickbay?"

Christine barely hesitated, but it was enough to clue Jim in that it was longer than he had first thought.

Another secret.

He had not been here just a few days. Had it been weeks?

"Now, Mr. Kirk," she chided with cheerfulness. "Are you worried that you are taking too much of the doctor's time?"

"Yes." Jim frowned.

"I see. Well, if he wasn't here with you he'd be camping outside your door to make sure you were alright. The comman...excuse me, the captain- "

"Spock? He's a good captain," Jim mused.

"Yes, that's right. Captain Spock issued our orders. Other than the doctor, most of the crew are currently on shore leave."

"Bones has nothing better to do? He'd just sit in a hallway? That's...stupid."

Christine's soft chuckle awakened something in Jim's mind. He felt it and embraced it, a respite from the the hollowness he wrestled with.

A smile tugged at Jim's own lips. "Glad I'm just lying in a bed, then, needing his help. It sort of works out."

"I think he'd be even happier to see you smiling, Mr. Kirk."

Jim's breath caught. Smiling? It was more than that. He'd just made a joke. A joke. So easily...it felt normal...but why? In the throes of confusion, he missed the swish of the door and the identifiable footsteps of the doctor.

"Jim?" McCoy called softly. "Are ya alright, buddy? You're not breathing and I know it's not physical distress. You're holding your breath.

Jim exhaled a rush of air, speechless.

"Mr. Kirk and I were having a light-hearted discussion." Christine came to his rescue. "About...camping."

"God help me, the last time I stayed in a tent it was..."

Jim's attention faltered as he remembered all on his own, his mind taking him down an unguarded corner the Re'an missed...

_"...pouring rain, Jim! Pouring rain!" Bones grumbled, tipping his head forward to avoid the drops slipping into his eyes over his slicker. "And these." He tugged at the oversized garment, almost letting go of his side of the tent. "They're not worth the-"_

_"Aw, come on, Bones." Jim would do what it took to keep the good doctor happy - except allow him to be transported back on the Enterprise. "It's the perfect time. We have three days shore leave and when day breaks, we'll have the perfect view of the sunrise. Tomorrow will be perfect weather for you to work on that full-body tan you want-"_

_McCoy snorted._

_" -ed, I promise, Bones." Jim smirked, putting his hands on his hips. "And don't worry, the poisonous snakes -"_

_"Snakes!" Bones did let go of the tent then, the Vulcan coming up behind him quickly snatching it before the wind and rain overcame their shelter. Jim rolled his eyes, wiping the cool, refreshing rain from his face. After the five hour hike, he couldn't quite see what McCoy was complaining about. It was just a sprinkling. "How'd you like to be camping in a valley of eight-legged creatures capable of crawling right into your sleeping bag, catchin' ya unawares, Jim?"_

_Jim shivered before he could help himself. The thought was abhorable, yes, but this was too much fun. Or, would be, once Bones settled in for the night and Jim could break out the cupcakes Uhura made from scratch just for him while he and Spock finally had some time to catch up. He smiled gleefully at the scowling doctor. Spock ignored the both of them and took over setting up the tent._

_Bones wagged his eyebrows at Jim. "Or, maybe you'd prefer numerous, big painful hypos for the sake of keeping you healthy, especially after the sugar rush you're planning later tonight."_

_Jim's mouth gaped open. "How did you -"_

_"Ya can't put that stuff past me, kid. I'm your CMO ya know, not to mention your personal physician. I have the authorization, buddy..."_

He jolted back to reality. "Bones, what's a CMO?"

"Jim, I can't ans-"

"Spock to McCoy."

Bones sighed. "Yes, Spock..."

What did Bones mean, _I'm your CMO?_ Jim had one. Bones was a CMO. His CMO. What was it?

"Jim."

He should know this, shouldn't he? Why didn't he know?

"Hey, buddy," Bones gently squeezed Jim's shoulder.

Jim swallowed. "Yeah. Sorry. What were you saying?"

"Before what I have in my hand gets cold, you should know that I have something that might interest ya."

The delicious scent of chicken broth wafted Jim's way. "Soup." He widened his eyes, breathless with anticipation as his stomach issued a low growl.

"Guess I came just in time." Jim could hear the amusement in Bones' voice. "Wouldn't want this diet you've been on to continue too much longer. It's just broth for now but you'll graduate to soup before ya know it. How's the hand?"

Jim shrugged, not knowing how to answer to such an ambiguous question. Which hand? At the movement, one shoulder cooperated with certainty and the other remained a limb he could not find but would do almost anything to feel again. He grimaced.

"Mr. Kirk, shall I stop?" Christine asked softly. The spoon clanged against the bowl as Christine addressed him and Jim strained to hear the muted words Bones muttered. After a brief pause, Christine continued to massage his arm as if nothing had happened. Jim vaguely wondered what bothered the doctor so but then dismissed the thought. "Am I hurting you more?"

"No, it's...it's fine." Jim blinked. Nurse Chapel's hands were as gentle as before and quite aware - they found each painful spot but her kneading had finally eased them to a bearable level. Jim's mouth tingled as he impatiently waited. "I'm...fine."

"Your allergies are a potential risk with any combination of drugs I've given you, and I am unable to give you more to ward off the pain. However, Spock will be here soon," Bones said gently. "He'll be able to decrease your discomfort. Until then, let's work on this appetite of yours. Here's your first bite, Jim."

Jim's face went slack as he thought of being spoon fed; even though he could feel his arm and hand, he could not hold a utensil. There had been another time he'd been spoon fed. Something had been wrong with his body...radiation? As Bones began to feed him, Jim allowed the confusing thought to slip away. The first few spoonfuls of broth were awkward, once or twice the broth slipping off his lips and probably dripping down his chin, but soon, Jim got a hang of the timing. Bones took the broth away far sooner than Jim would liked, but he understood.

"Not too much," Bones said softly and the doctor's footsteps carried him to the other side of the room. Nurse Chapel let go of his arm, murmuring a promise to return after Spock's visit. "But don't worry, you'll have more in a little while. I see that your pain levels have decreased and hopefully, your stomach is a little more satisfied than it would be with an intravenous diet. It's going to be like this for a while, Jim. Besides the fact you've been on this particular diet recently, we performed several surgeries on your stomach and we must introduce solids slowly."

Jim bit his lip. He wanted to know what type of injuries he received, but it wasn't altogether necessary to ask. He also wanted to know what Bones meant by 'a while.' And he still didn't understand the word 'CMO.'

"What's on your mind?"

"Many things."

Bones lightly touched Jim's shoulder. "There always are," he murmured before letting go. Jim waited, hearing the doctor heave himself into a chair with a sigh. "Spock will be here any minute. That's what he had commed about, and I want you to know that you can ask us any of your questions. I won't be able to answer all of them, but I will try. So...go ahead. Talking about things will help. I know this has to feel different to ya. How does it feel?"

Jim sucked in a breath. Answer a question he didn't know how to answer in the first place? He wasn't sure how to describe how it felt. He felt... "Missing," he breathed.

"What else?"

"Something's just not right. Something happened, and it wasn't just the meld. Something bad, and the longer I've been awake, the more questions I have."

After a moment of silence, Bones exhaled a long, careful breath. "I will be honest with ya, Jim. I'm your physician. I have been for a long time."

"I know that," Jim whispered, but knowing wasn't the same as remembering. Bones was a ghost to him, much like this place was, and he had the innate sense that it wasn't right to view his friend this way. He remembered him, saw the two of them at an unidentifiable educational facility or on a starship he didn't know why he was on, and often Bones was fixing him or they were hanging out and carrying on with quips and good-natured sarcasm. However, he had no context, nothing to make sense of those scenes. Worse, he wasn't sure if he should mention this or keep it to himself for fear that he'd wear out his welcome before Bones fixed him.

"I know what makes you tick. I know every allergy you have. I know the name of every single bone you've ever broken and how many times you've broken them. I keep tabs on you, I heal you, I fix you. I understand Jim Kirk. Because I know you, Jim, and because I am responsible for your health, I have to keep some information to myself until you are well enough to process it correctly. But, I know you're thinkin' just like ya always do." Bones paused, a sign for Jim to answer.

"Something bad did happen." As with his words before, Jim whispered. "But you can't tell me."

"Yeah, something did happen to you and now you must be here with us and not on Re'an V, and you're right. I can't tell you the details, buddy," Bones said softly. "Not yet, at least."

"Okay." His heart thudded wildly in his ears. He was to be treated as if he were a child and the fact of the matter was - he really didn't mind. He didn't want to know what happened. Things confused him - the way Bones and his nurses danced around the information, the way his injuries weren't explained, the feeling he had that it would be a long time before he saw the Re'an. Whatever had happened to him, it had to have been bad. Really bad. And maybe to the Re'an...something even worse. He gulped a breath. Maybe all of them keeping secrets from him wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

"Jim, ya still with me?"

"Yes," he breathed. But the truth was, he felt alone again.

"You're not alone, Jim," Bones said firmly. Panicked, Jim realized his error but Bones didn't give him the chance to withdraw his statement. "I'm here, Spock is here, and the two of us are going to do everything we can to help you. We will need you to help us and at times work a little harder than you may want to or expect, but you don't have to worry about 'what happened' anymore. Let Spock and me do that. I know in the past...in the recent past our friendship met with...unprecedented difficulty. From now on, Jim, I will do everything in my power to cultivate our friendship and mend it. I want you to know that this? Having you here in my sickbay? It is where I want you to be so I can help you. I don't want you to be anywhere but here. I don't want to be anywhere but here with you. So, that said, will you let us do the worrying for you?"

Jim wanted to trust Bones and with this display of honesty he should trust Bones, but he wasn't altogether sure he could believe in their mended friendship in the blink of an eye. Then again, Bones was a good doctor - the best - and Jim believed that with his whole heart. He squeezed his eyes shut, tried to nod, tried to close his hand in a fist. He was soon rudely reminded of his limitations, managing only to induce a piercing agony throughout his entire arm. He refused to cry out and locked his jaw. Instantly, a hand rested on Jim's shoulder and another took Jim's injured arm and began another gentle massage.

Jim huffed a breath as the redundant motion gave him respite from the pain. He attempted to keep the tear captive, the tear which had formed from the pain and Bones' compassion. He did trust Bones - in everything. Honestly, today he couldn't even remember what they'd even been arguing about or why. Or what had happened. Maybe it hadn't been as important as he thought; but, it had been enough to cause this rift between him and...it was useless. He felt the tear disappear from his eye and assumed it trailed down his face. There was no way Bones would have missed it.

"Is there something else botherin' you, Jim?"

"I..." Jim swallowed as more tears pricked his eyes. He shouldn't be crying. The Re'an would not. And...he missed the Re'an but he missed something else more that he couldn't put a finger on. Something...something that may have caused one of the holes in his heart. Or all of them.

"Do ya want to talk about it?" Bones asked softly.

Everything was dark. Everything. So Jim didn't know if he wanted to talk about it, he didn't remember, and he didn't want to cry more - and said as much.

Bones lightly squeezed Jim's shoulder. "Maybe it would be a good idea for us to postpone therapy until tomorrow."

Jim's mind raced, anxiety rising within his chest. That meant Spock might not come. Jim didn't care if it meant he'd still be in some pain. This meant Spock would remain busy with this ship that Jim still was confused as to why he was on in the first place, but talking to the Vulcan helped him not dwell on that confusion. He helped Jim not dwell on anything too much, but Spock would be busy with this ship's crew and Jim would be without the two people he trusted most if Bones had to leave-

_I will be there, Jim._

Jim blinked. "Spock?"

"Spock's not here, Jim."

"But I..." He exhaled a slow breath. He was losing it. First, this crying and now...he heard Spock's voice but the Vulcan wasn't here! "Bones...am I...am I losing it?"

"Losing it?"

"My sanity," Jim forced a laugh. "I feel like I am."

"Buddy, you've been through a lot lately and things may be confusing for a little while still, but you're not crazy."

"I thought I heard him."

"Who?"

"Spock."

"You thought you heard...Huh. Jim, on second thought, if you're up to it, maybe we will push through therapy. Do you think you could?"

Jim wasn't sure he could push through therapy well at all, but he detected expectation in Bones' voice. "I think so."

"Afterwards, I can bring you more broth and while you rest, maybe Lieutenant Uhura can be your first official visitor. She offered to read to you, knowing you've always liked that."

"She did? Uhura?" Jim sniffed.

"She sure did. And although I can't wear you out and let them all visit you today, your friends are anxiously waiting to see you. Chekov found out some interesting things about his family tree he thought you'd be interested in. Carol wants to make sure Uhura doesn't hog all the reading time. Sulu wants to stop by soon, and he may be the first after Uhura. He probably won't say much but at least you'll be guarded by a master swordsman while you rest. Mr. Scott...well...that visit will be last and kept short and sweet because who knows what trouble you two could find."

Jim brightened instantly, having no idea how much his happier expression encouraged the doctor.

"So...Uhura," Jim said slowly. Trouble sounded a thousand times better than the monotony he'd been dealing with - and far more interesting. "Then...Mr. Scott."

McCoy's lips twitched at the nonchalant reply. "Don't push your luck, pal."


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty full chapter, and the very first scene wasn't originally in the chapter I posted on FanFiction. Since I've been editing my chapters as I post here on AO3, I've had the opportunity to make a few changes, although this is the biggest change yet. And I'm very excited that Bones decided to remind me of Georgia. I am so happy about it that I have to post earlier than I originally planned. Hope you enjoy the read.

Jim awakened to a smooth, clean scent that took precedent over any other thought he may have had first. He breathed deeply, using the quiet moment to deduce that the scent was familiar. Like...home. He could not place why it struck him as something so personal. He also didn't understand why it made him think of 'home' when the only 'home' he remembered was Re'an V. He was certain they did not have this. Water splashed somewhere beside him, enticing him to move his hand and discover its location and dip his fingers into it. 

But then Jim remembered his failure and kept his arm stiffly by his side. He'd fallen asleep before Spock had arrived to help him with his therapy.

"You're awake."

Jim swallowed nervously. "Bones," he whispered. "Spock...did he...?"

"Did he come and find you fast asleep?" Hearing the light-heartedness in the doctor's voice, Jim allowed himself to relax and wait for the explanation. "Sure did. Didn't mind a bit, though, so don't worry. He'll come again soon, after you take a bath and eat."

Jim blinked and lifted his hand, working to find his face. He stopped when his fingers ran over what he assumed to be stubble along his jaw. "A bath?"

"Yep. With water and everything, and I just made sure it's the right temperature." Bones gave a short laugh. "Seeing that you discovered your face and that beard you're growing, I can throw in a shave, too. At no extra charge."

"But...the water...we're on a star ship."

"There are rations for patients." Bones squeezed his shoulder. "I've given you pain medication that will only last a little over an hour, so we better get moving."

"Where are we going?"

"We're staying right in this room. We fixed it all up for you here so we didn't have to move you too far." Bones paused. "I do need a nurse to come in to assist, if that's alright with you."

Jim inhaled a sharp breath. "Nurse Chapel?" That was not acceptable. The Re'an didn't allow the female beings to help bathe the males even if they were patients, but how could he explain that to Bones?

"No," Bones gently said, as if he knew exactly where Jim's mind had taken him. "Do you remember Garig? He's usually on beta shift. You may have met him the second time you woke up, Jim."

"Oh," Jim said, deflating in his relief. He didn't remember Garig but Bones' choice was fine with him despite that. 

"Is that alright?"

"Yes." Jim licked his lips. Whatever was in the air, it smelled good. "What is that scent?"

Bones made a noncommittal but pleased sound. "Ya like it?"

Jim hesitated, wondering if one answer was preferred over the other. He must have waited too long to answer, for Bones continued. 

"You always liked to sit beside this plant in my mama's garden back in Georgia. Then she'd use the leaves for tea, and ya never complained. In fact, you always wanted more. Helped you sleep, so I didn't mind seeing you drink three cups in a row."

"Mint." Jim savored the word on his lips. He could almost taste that tea. He wanted to taste it. 

"That's right," Bones said softly. 

Jim thought of 'mint' again and a warm feeling crept into his stomach, turning in a gentle way, over and over. The soothing, addictive feeling never subsided, even as they disconnected him from IVs and catheters and he was transferred to the tub. He thought of Bones' home in Georgia as his hand met with water and rested against the hard surface of the tub. The lightly scented water gently lapped against the skin of his arm and clear up to his shoulder - but he couldn't remember that home no matter how hard he tried. He remembered Mrs. McCoy's voice, bright and clear. He remembered Georgia's sunlight. He remembered mint, and he closed his eyes, relaxing as Bones' southern drawl reassured Jim that he held him and he was in no danger of drowning. 

Jim liked the scent of mint and the feeling it gave him, but even more than that, he liked the feeling that maybe he could trust his friend a little more than he had first thought. 

 

* * *

 

McCoy stood, stance rigid with crossed arms right outside the captain's private room. Spock remained a respectable distance away from McCoy, first waiting for the doctor to speak his mind.

"Spock, whatever you do, please don't cause him more pain. I believe the bath and more food helped, but Christine was right - he was unsettled earlier, which is expected, given that Jim is a thinker."

"I will do my best, doctor."

"Doing your best isn't good enough, Spock. He's...he's having a rough time. It's written all over his face."

"He was quite pleased with the bath, doctor, and even more with the reminder of your home."

The doctor gave Spock a small smile in return. "I was hoping that would help."

"However, Jim continues to dwell on all the unknowns."

"I..." McCoy cocked his head, eyebrows meeting. "You know what's going through his mind, then?"

"Very much so, but he does not know my thoughts. I am shielding him from them, and..." Spock hesitated.

"What is it, Spock?"

"The bond from Jim's side is stunted by the barrier, but he is recalling events of the past and this is upsetting him. We must proceed now, while he is submissive."

"Do you realize how disturbing that is to hear?" McCoy's eyes flickered with sadness. "Our captain? Submissive?"

"I am aware." Spock felt it keenly, but did not allow himself to show this emotion. 

"Do you know how much more disturbing it is to see that attribute in him? His passiveness? It's not Jim." McCoy blinked and looked away.

Remembering Nyota's cautioning to remain considerate of the doctor's feelings, Spock refrained from pointing out the utter lack of logic in McCoy's last statement.

Recalling, then, that he had thought much the same regarding their captain, Spock said nothing in reply at all.

"Well," McCoy sighed. "We do need to proceed right away, especially since we already had to delay this. You need to break some of that damn barrier immediately, or at least try, as long as it doesn't hurt him. Alright, Spock. I've given as much pain medication as I dare to, but his leg wound...It's not that much better, when you look at the big picture. He has a long way to go, Spock, and a lot of pain to go with it once you penetrate that barrier and he regains his sense of touch in his entire body. Be careful with him. Please."

"Understood." Spock slipped past the doctor. The doctor lingered behind, then abruptly pushed past as an alarm sounded. McCoy rounded the biobed, swearing softly. Both of Jim's hands shook under the restraints. The captain sucked in a breath, his face strained with effort.

"I'm sorry, buddy," McCoy sat beside Jim and gently grasped the younger man's gloved hand. He pulled the glove off and began to massage it again. "I promise I'll do this all day and night if it helps you, but I can't remove the glove for long periods of time."

Nyota knew his plan. McCoy's severe expression revealed that the doctor was also aware, and Spock felt no guilt for that which he was about to do. He waited only a moment, until McCoy set Jim's hand down on the biobed. Spock then placed his own hand on Jim's feeling shoulder. He paused, wanting Jim to first acknowledge his presence before proceeding.

The human's heavy breath settled as expected and then Jim said tiredly, "Spock, my pain stopped as soon as you touched me."

Spock did not wait for Jim to question 'why,' for Jim would not unless his state of mind allowed him to forget. "Yes, Jim. You are aware that as a Vulcan, I am a touch telepath. I can also alleviate your pain, and will do so now as we continue your therapy."

"You're taking away my pain...taking...it for yourself..." Jim sucked in a breath.

"Please breathe, cap-...Jim." Spock blinked, startling himself out of his semi-trance. Berating himself for a misspoken word and the tense way Jim now held himself, Spock closed his eyes and began the process again. This was the opportune time to test their bond, when Jim was willing and submissive. It was imperative that Spock continue his attempts to break down the Re'an barrier as much as possible. He did not expect to be able to destroy it all even now, but Jim was even more receptive to their bond than before.

McCoy huffed, grumbling softly to himself in the background. As Spock heard snatches of 'crazy hobgoblins' and 'idiotic geniuses,' he allowed the bond with Jim to take precedent in his mind. McCoy disappeared from his thoughts, as did sickbay and anything else but Jim and the sentence the Re'an had given the captain - a blind, unfeeling world.

 

* * *

 

Spock's presence soothed Jim. He wanted more, wanted what blocked the pain in his arm but more than that, he wanted the peace the Vulcan's presence brought to him. Jim closed his eyes, feeling as if Spock was in his mind, but that wasn't possible, was it? He hadn't quite understood what had occurred before. But now, he thought he understood. But...Jim was Re'an now. The Re'an would not allow this to happen not unless they were...they were...were...no, that couldn't be...what if they were...were...

Jim's thoughts stuttered to a halt before he could finish. He sensed Spock even more now, as if he had been the very one who'd closed that door. The Vulcan didn't want Jim to know why he was in his head, and Jim acquiesced.

Jim was forced to accept Spock's presence but the reality was that he wanted to accept his presence. Jim allowed the Vulcan to create a space for himself, to watch him for a moment after Jim had first recognized his presence.

And then, Jim didn't know what to do next, let alone what to expect from Spock.

_Allow me, Jim._

When the Vulcan pushed against another closed area, the Re'an area, Jim winced. That was special to Jim. Didn't Spock know that?"

_I will not hurt you._

Jim knew this. Spock was his friend, and he could trust Spock, especially now that he stopped pushing against the Re'an area. Jim wanted to cry with relief. Spock backed away.

_You can trust me._

Jim knew that...he knew that because...

A memory broke through, one that Jim didn't remember ever seeing. All was hot. The glass separated them, separated him from Spock's hand. Jim's own hand pressed with a finality upon the glass, as a fire burned through his body. He had no breath and it was worse than now. It was worse than not feeling. He was burning from the inside out, suffocating, dying, blind towards the end, blind like now, but Spock was there, telling him he was Jim's friend.

Jim's mind ached, the mental anguish pure and sharp despite the clouded imagery. The Re'an barrier clawed at the memory, but not before Jim recognized that he was on a ship. He'd had a job on this ship. He didn't know what kind of job, but it was the place of his employment. Why hadn't Spock told him? Jim instantly cowered away from the memory as the Re'an barrier tried to reabsorb it and Spock fought for it back, winning part of it and storing it carefully without Jim's knowledge. Jim couldn't ask questions. If Spock stored a part away and didn't tell him, it was for a reason. There had to be a reason. A reason Jim was not supposed to know. So he looked the other way.

_Think of your friends. Remember walking side-by-side with them. This is all that should fill your mind._

Jim didn't mind thinking of walking. The other was too hard. Although his head pounded, he listened. He thought as the Vulcan had requested, unaware that Spock's Vulcan telepathic strength pulled other hidden memories from behind the Re'an barrier and carefully dealt with them. Jim didn't know how much time had passed and he hadn't felt the Re'an barrier disintegrate in a few areas, but it had. When Spock halted him, Jim acquiesced again. As if he were in a dream, Jim raised a heavy hand to rub his weary eyes. He opened them, nothing but darkness before him as he'd come all too easily accustomed to.

But something was different.

A sheet brushed against his legs. His feet were cold, as if Bones had forgotten to adjust the temperature of both the room and biobed. He sensed the bed beneath him. He rested his uninjured hand on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath with his fingertips.

His heart lightened as he realized the truth. Spock had returned to him one of the things the Re'an had taken, something he hadn't even realized he'd missed so much.

"Spock?" His voice was paper thin, stripped from his throat as he called for both of his best friends. "Bones?"

"Jim?" McCoy's voice came softly from his left. "You can feel, can't ya? I know you're experiencing some pain, but Spock is still in a trance taking care of the worst for you."

"Spock...did this...he..."

"Yeah, Jim," McCoy brushed a hand over Jim's forehead. Jim closed his eyes and leaned into the warmth of his best friend. He'd mourned the comfort of the doctor so much it hurt even now, clear to his core. "He did. It's taken small increments of time over the past day. Actually, the past twenty-six hours. Spock said you may not recall any of it, and that's okay. He cares about you, you know."

And Jim cared about Spock. They were friends. They had... "A bond. We have a bond."

"It's a good thing, Jim. I don't want you to worry about it, okay?"

"It...helped me," he struggled to say. "But, he's hurting."

"I told you I wouldn't lie to you but there would be some things I just couldn't tell you. But right now, I will say yes, he is hurting, but he wouldn't have it any other way. That is why, for his sake and yours, I would prefer to sedate you again."

Jim's heart dropped. He'd just regained the feeling in his body. He didn't want to miss anything.

"Jim, your leg is recuperating from an infection of alien blood. Given the nature of your injury, it is very painful and you're gonna feel it when Spock can't shoulder it all for you anymore."

"But he's tired now," Jim deduced. "He needs to rest."

"Yeah, he does, but he won't want to if you're awake. He'll remain even though I have a feeling he needs a day or two to recover. Now, I know you're probably dying to move around now that you can feel, but Jim...it's gonna hurt."

Jim licked his lips, nervously trying to figure out what the doctor was asking him. Jim didn't know what he wanted so why was Bones even suggesting Jim would know? Jim couldn't ask Bones, couldn't suggest anything, and for all of this - Jim was very confused. He was being given choices.

_Ask him, Jim._

Jim took a tremulous breath. The Re'an wouldn't want him to.

_It is one question, one that will benefit you. Ask Dr. McCoy._

Jim swallowed, panicked that he was failing the Re'an even though he had to obey Spock's seemingly simple request. Didn't Spock know this...this...hurt? That is went against everything Jim knew to do?

_It will be alright, Jim._

In an act of trust, Jim decided to do what Spock asked. "What...what would you do?"

"I would sleep for awhile, to allow my body to rest and adjust without any complications for another day. Then, I would want to be awake and see how much pain I could handle. If I couldn't handle it, I would not suffer through it but ask to be sedated again until Spock was available to help me manage the pain."

Jim considered what Bones said. It was logical and sound.

"Is that okay with you?" McCoy asked softly, hand on Jim's forehead once again. "I want you to have a part in choosing what's next for your health. But, if you truly want to hang out here with me for awhile, we can. Otherwise, being sedated is not a bad thing. You'll still be able to feel when you wake up, buddy. Do you agree to sedation?"

Seeing a way to help everyone in this whole situation that revolved around him, Jim nodded. He'd do that for Spock, because he was given a choice. He'd do that for his best friend, because surely Bones had to sleep, too. Somehow, he realized that it was the choice he'd make even without the doctor's influence.

He was always choosing what benefitted other people and not himself. And this choice wasn't any different. It just felt...right.

 

* * *

 

Jim had chosen well and like a captain would. It didn't matter to McCoy that Spock had clearly influenced him and maybe even McCoy himself had influenced Jim, because that's what a first officer and CMO would do - properly inform their captain. Now, four days after that long, necessary but exhausting ordeal, Jim sat reclined in the biobed. With his good arm tucked carefully across his chest, he tipped his head back in contentment as Uhura read to him to keep his mind off his pain. She was doing an impressive job of it, too, always choosing books Jim enjoyed and ones that sometimes encouraged conversation between the two of them. The others had sat with Jim, but Uhura had taken the most shifts. When she first arrived, she placed a hat that she had knitted on Jim's bare head.

"For me?" Jim's eyes brightened, a slightly stunned look on his face.

"I'm not sure blue is McCoy's color, but it goes with your eyes perfectly," she kissed his cheek, causing a faint flush to rise on Jim's face. 

McCoy shook his head, fighting a smile at his friend's newly-found bashfulness with women before going about his business - caring for Jim. Every effort was spent making sure the captain was as comfortable as he possibly could, whether it was in his bed or the most recent second option, a larger, cushioned chair with his injured leg carefully raised. Often, and for the first time since McCoy met Jim, he was now 'the captain' in McCoy's thoughts, for Jim was doing things that were more himself each day. Jim didn't realize it. The changes were minuscule, really. Minuscule but no less important. The captain never recognized the comments he made that encouraged the medical staff or his command crew or McCoy, most of all. Though rare, a question may come out of the blue and McCoy would answer, never making a big deal about it to Jim. Or Uhura would answer, for Spock had emerged from his meditative healing state two days ago but his responsibilities as Acting Captain had taken him away from Jim's side more often the past twenty-four hours.

McCoy frowned, seeing that the captain's body temperature had dipped by one point two degrees in the past two hours. Yesterday, the drop was point eight degrees and the day before that point six degrees. Nothing they did had resolved the issue, and the implications of this were disconcerting. Christine frowned, as well, and immediately replicated another pair of thick, soft socks for Jim's feet, to the captain's chagrin. She began to pull the sock over when Jim put a fist up to his mouth, trying to hide the fact that he was still as ticklish as could be.

The captain made a face, a distorted one seeing that he was fighting an unstoppable laugh. "Socks again?"

"Your temp dropped more, Jim," McCoy tapped the controls on the bed.

"I think I may enjoy watching this," Uhura mused.

"No, Christine," Jim half-groaned, half-snorted with laughter as Chris purposefully lingered with her hand on the bottom of his left foot. "Please...this is just not fair."

"You know, Chris, I think you should have put that pair on him first." Uhura said smugly.

"Hmmm," Christine mused. "That is a good idea. Although, it means I will have to start over."

"What?" Jim's eyes widened. "Oh, no...please...no...that's torture..."

McCoy would've enjoyed the light-hearted, almost normal scene in front of him had it not been for the steady decline of Jim's numbers. He adjusted the room's temperature with a scowl. The room was going to feel like New Vulcan before the day ended. "I need to talk to Spock. Your bond...it's unstable."

It was the only thing that made sense - that or the breaking down of the Re'an barrier. And being that Spock took awhile to heal from the meld, the Vulcan to human transfer could have only complicated things for Jim.

"So I'm cold...there are worse things. Like being...tickled." Jim groaned in good humor as Chris placed the other sock on his right foot, but McCoy could hear the laughter disappearing from Jim's voice.

He wasn't surprised when the captain's injured leg twitched involuntarily, increasing his pain instantly and eliciting a slow hiss from Jim. He fidgeted with the blanket, a fist clenching and hovering near the injury on his thigh. McCoy scowled deeper, cursing the alien blood for millionth time as he watched the pain snuff out Jim's happiness, the distractions failing.

The worse things were happening. Flecks of peach lingered in Jim's eyes, Jim still didn't remember he was captain, his demeanor remained influenced by the Re'an, and McCoy could not rid Jim of this utterly atrocious infection. Spock assured McCoy they were closer than before to finding the correct formula to stop the infection, and they were currently running tests. The blindness also persisted. Not only could Jim not see, he had no desire, no will to see. Although another probe into Jim's mind could possibly end the blindness, Spock did not recommend it until his own capabilities returned to normal. According to the Vulcan, the Re'an barrier had seen a 35.6% reduction, but what remained was even stronger.

The doors opened and Spock's unflappable gaze met McCoy's. "Doctor, I believe I can assist."

"Yeah. Why don't you do that. But first, I need to discuss something with you. His body temperature is-"

An alarm sounded but McCoy wasn't far. The captain had turned his head away from them all, laughter forgotten, but Uhura had paid no heed to Jim's obvious desire to be alone. She sandwiched the captain's good hand between her palms, her presence uniquely withstanding Jim's stubborn temperament. Jim's body was coiled tautly and his hand squeezed Uhura's, the captain having locked himself in a battle against the burning sensation in his leg.

And thus the problem.

"You gotta breathe, Jim," McCoy said gently.

Jim didn't. He didn't respond. He didn't do anything. He was reacting to the torturous pain like Captain Kirk would, a reaction McCoy would have been elated by except for when it came to Jim's well-being, he rather Jim not be a martyr.

Seeing that the struggle would be a future fixture every single time Jim was awake, McCoy nodded to Spock. "On second thought, I can wait."

Spock stepped closer to Jim, and Jim's head shifted slightly and he yanked his hand away from Uhura.

"No," Jim said through clenched teeth.

"Jim, the pain is spreading," McCoy held up a hand, stopping Spock momentarily. He wanted Spock to help Jim. The Vulcan's involvement like this was necessary for destroying the barrier, Jim's wishes be damned, but Jim had never said 'no' to them before. McCoy couldn't ignore it. "I don't want you to sit here miserable if you don't have to. Spock can-"

"...no," Jim gasped a breath. "..too much...for him."

"A Vulcan's tolerance-"

"...no..." Jim groaned. "That's...an order."

Jim's face leeched of color as silence hit the room.

"Wh...why...why did I just say that?" Jim's voice morphed into a whimper of a lost and hurting little boy. "Bones?"

McCoy took a deep breath. This was not good timing for Jim to show his true self. "Jim, I can't answer that right now. Spock, we have to proceed."

"But...I don't do that. Order. I don't...order. Bones?" Jim's eyes darted wildly and he reached for the doctor. His good hand fumbled at first but once he latched onto McCoy's arm, his hand was locked around the doctor's in a death grip.

"I'm sorry, Jim, but we can't have this conversation right now."

Jim froze.

"Do you remember me telling you that there are things we can't discuss because it's for your best interest? This is one of them."

"But...I gave...an order." Jim swallowed, his heavy breaths now shallow, painful efforts. "Why did I do that? Why...why did everyone stop talking? Did I...did I do something wrong? I don't understand."

"You did nothing wrong." Although everything in McCoy told him to spill everything to Jim, he forced himself to remain calm follow the guidelines they had set for Jim's benefit. "I know this is difficult, but you have to trust me. And for now, let's have Spock take care of the pain for you. If only for a little while."

Jim released McCoy's arm, shoulders curving inward and staring at the nothingness before him. McCoy hated the resignation mixing with pain on his face, and exchanged a worried glance with Uhura.

This wasn't Jim. Jim wouldn't want them to play games with him. Was that what they were doing? Were they making the time worse when they would have to tell him the truth? Or, would McCoy's ultimate fear be realized and that day never come?

"Bones," Jim whispered, his hand groping for McCoy's arm. "I don't want Spock to feel this. I want...to be...alone..." Jim grimaced, tension filling his rounded shoulders. "Please."

McCoy scowled. That was more than he expected. Spock needed to proceed. McCoy swallowed harshly. "I know you hate to cause anyone pain, but this is more important than we can explain to you right now, Jim. I have the authority to-"

"C.M.O." Jim's fragile voice bent under stilted letter. "Authority. That's what...that means... Bones? Authority?"

McCoy swore silently, sensing Spock's dark eyes boring into him. It was a major mistake on McCoy's part - and one that may prove too costly.

"CMO," Jim whispered again. "CMO. Chief...chief..."

"Jim-"

"I remembered something...earlier..." McCoy could see the wheels turning in Jim's head, causing the younger man to process too much information at a delicate time, therefore provoking an immediate increase in his heartrate. McCoy could very well see Jim soon experiencing a full-blown panic attack. "We were...camping...and... I had...cupcakes. You knew. You said...you were my CMO. And...if I have a CMO...chief...medical officer...if...I gave an order...it makes sense...that I'm...Bones?"

There was only one way to calm Jim, and only one way to calm McCoy's own heart as he heard Jim speak in broken sentences. He ignored the others in the room, including Spock's un-Vulcan worried gaze, and avoiding the IV lines, slipped on the bed beside Jim. He sat along the edge, for this was best. Contact, holding Jim close, not sending him directly to sedation. He enclosed his arms around his friend and cradled Jim's head against his chest, saying absolutely nothing.

"I'm...your captain." Jim said with disbelief, his weakened hand coming up to hold onto McCoy's arm.

Unable to curl his fingers correctly, however, his fingertips could not latch on the fabric but slid down McCoy's uniform. McCoy quickly grasped Jim's clammy hand with his own, stabilizing the captain's uncooperative muscles.

"Don't lie to me, Bones. I'm the captain...of...of this ship. But I don't remember. I don't know what to do. I can't see. I can't...I can't remember. Bones, I'm not me, am I?" Jim's entire body went slack in his embrace, like a man who had given up after walking along a tragic, steep and winding path and now faced a hopeless, just as twisted ending. McCoy tightened his embrace, holding Jim steady. "I..I was, because I can't be now. Bones? I...was...the captain?"

The captain's forehead perspired with the effort it took to speak and his breath was too uneven to appease the doctor. Jim buried his face into McCoy's chest, the captain in essence a trusting child like he had been since he first awakened. McCoy couldn't speak the orders to Christine. The damage was done and another minute wouldn't change a thing. Like it or not, they had reached the next stage, and the unavoidable would only worsen as time passed if they let things go.

McCoy took a cautious breath, but it was Spock who answered their captain with a firm but definitive and quiet, "Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I am (a little) sorry for the cliffie. The next chapter will be pretty big on the h/c factor. I will post again in another day or two.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is heavy on the hurt/comfort. Maybe leaning towards the hurt side a bit more, especially during an important Jim and Spock scene. I've also included another 'real' scene that occurs just days before the Re'an meld that Jim experienced on the planet. It is for your benefit, not something Jim remembers, just to be clear. It also weaves in some plot points. 
> 
> I know these chapters are sad, and there is more to come before we are through. That is part of the road that has been paved and part of the vision I've had for the story. It's my belief that the ending will be even better after all of this angst/hurt/comfort. Don't get me wrong - we shall see some happy times, too. :)
> 
> I discovered this week that I'm in need of a new beta. In particular, one who does not mind seeing me to the end of this bittersweet, longish story with a happy ending. I must be true to the story and continue how I see fit. I do not mind going solo, but to be honest that second set of eyes helps me tremendously. :) I've had one wonderful offer that I am considering, but time constraints would push the next chapter (well, chapter 29) far into the future. If you are interested, please let me know. I will also post my request on Fanficiton. :)

It was McCoy's fault. All of it, just like it was in those damn manifestations. 

It was utterly ridiculous and illogical to compare one misspoken word to the grievous but fabricated error McCoy committed against Jim that his friend most likely endured for the entirety of his catatonic state. But, that was what McCoy did.

He almost couldn't force himself to look at the confusion and resignation sure to be on his best friend's face. He had messed up. He knew it. Spock knew it. They all had heard him. They would all later reassure him it wasn't his fault, that something of this nature was bound to happen  - but McCoy knew better.  When he glanced down, what he expected did not happen. Instead, his worst fear had come to pass.

Jim's eyes were wide open and his expression as blank as the day they rescued him from Re'an V.  

"No, no, no. Jim. Jim?" McCoy whispered. He stroked Jim's head twice and with the back of his finger, touched his cheek. Jim's eyelashes didn't even flutter. McCoy's heart race as he looked up at Spock. "No, Spock. This can't happen. He's not..."

Desperation rising, he let the question hang but Spock understood.

"He is in a safe place, doctor," Spock said softly.

"What do you mean safe?" McCoy widened his eyes.

"He is in a place that I previously created for a time such as this. He is surrounded by neutral yet pleasant memories of us." 

"He's in a trance you put him in, then? I thought we were trying to get him out of something like this!"

"It was necessary." The Vulcan's calm answer pacified McCoy little by little. "I directed him there as the panic he was feeling was becoming too much for him to bear. He is content, Dr. McCoy. His panic threatened to signal the Re'an barrier. I could not allow that to happen. I will bring him out of this state when I sense he is able to communicate and can do so without fear."

"And you had the foresight to make this place in his mind...when?"

"The very day Jim regained his sense of touch."

McCoy didn't want to read more into that than he had to, but he had no choice. He needed to know everything that Spock had done - and why. "You expected this to happen."

Spock inclined his head. "Yes. I calculated the possibility of it occurring, either during his recovery or at an indeterminate time in the future."

"The future? This could happen again, is that what you're saying? And what if you're not there to help him?"

"I believe he could find it on his own if he felt any danger, once he has realized that it is a possible danger and once he has both realized and believed in the essence of James Tiberious Kirk." Spock stepped closer, his voice lowering. "I must inform you, Dr. McCoy, that although I believe the Re'an barrier can be broken, it does not mean it will be completely dissolved. I expect that small, discarded pieces may remain imbedded in Jim's mind."

"He wouldn't need to resort to something like this years from now, if something triggered these Re'an pieces. Spock, that's unacceptable."

"It is the nature of the Re'an meld," Spock's eyes flickered with a glimpse of sadness that only magnified McCoy's worry. 

"Fuck," McCoy whispered.

The situation became all too real to McCoy when Uhura brought over a chair - and a book - and began to read. _Distraction_. Not for Jim, but for those gathered around the captain. Nonetheless, despite the doctor's mistake Jim remained tucked against McCoy and wrapped in his embrace. Spock stood beside Uhura, his eyes trained on Jim and hands at his sides and not behind his back as was customary. It was the oddest situation in every sense. Even Christine remained in the room, more or less taking over McCoy's job, watching the monitors or making sure Jim's vitals remained well within the levels McCoy desired them to be.

They were like figures in a snowglobe, waiting with bated breath to be shaken from their precarious situation. They remained unshaken for almost two hours, none of them wanting to break the moment for fear it would harm or provoke Jim in some way before he was ready. The only change was the voice that read.

Uhura stumbled on a word, her usual clarity clouded with emotion as she raised one elegant finger to wipe a tear from her cheek. Spock gently pried the book from Uhura's hand and gave her a look that McCoy could only describe as one full of tender concern. The lieutenant walked to a corner in Jim's room, back to them all, and put her hands to her face. Her body shuddered once. McCoy observed her more closely than he did the man he held. He understood her desire for control. He himself denied that his eyes stung with emotion. He felt slightly guilty for observing every other person in the room but Jim, but at this very moment there was nothing better that he could do more for him. He knew Jim. He knew his friend, despite the meld's damage. This was what he needed more than anything - to know McCoy was not abandoning him in his clear time of need. And so the doctor's arms tightened around his captain.

It was a long, long night.

* * *

 

Uhura left before morning came. McCoy drifted off to sleep for a short time at some point.  Spock did not. Spock paced, if McCoy could judge the patterns of a Vulcan slowly walking the length of Jim's room over and over again. Christine began a new shift as soon as her old one ended, unwilling to abandon McCoy as he, in turn, helped Jim. Just when the dormant muscles of McCoy's back screamed with more pain than ever, a quiet voice broke through with heart-breaking hesitation.

"Bones?"

Two pairs of eyes locked on McCoy and the man he held in his arms. 

"Do you...do you have any of that tea?"

McCoy's eyes grew wet. Of all the things to come out of Jim's mouth... "My mama's tea?" His voice came out rougher than he intended.

"Mmph," Jim mumbled, pressing closer. 

"Yeah, I sure do."

"Do you...do you think that...I'd like it...now? Like I had before?" Jim's voice waned.

"I think that you most likely will, Jim." 

"Could I have some?" Jim whispered.

"You bet." McCoy quietly explained to Christine where to find the tea bags Mrs. McCoy sent into space with her son for her other son, the adopted blonde one who had stolen her heart.

Jim sighed, his body warmer than it had been the previous day. McCoy raised a hand and adjusted the hat that threatened to fall off of Jim's head. He pulled both sides of the hat over Jim's ears, wanting his friend to feel as protected as possible. Spock picked up the book left behind by Uhura. He turned a page and continued. 

 

* * *

  

Feeling as if he was coming out of a dream, a whisper of truth slipped into his thoughts. Jim held his breath, holding the truth for a moment while he remembered what Spock had said. He had been captain. _Captain_. 

Head pressed against his friend's chest, Jim relished hearing the steady rhythm of Bones' heart, a constant as the unexpected - the _unfathomable_ \- swirled around him once again.  At some point, he asked for the first thing that came to his mind. _Mint_. He only had to wait a little while before warmth was pressed into his hand in the form of Mrs. McCoy's delicious mint tea. He sipped the liquid, draining the cup half-way before realizing his hand had begun to shake. Another set of hands lifted it from his grasp.

"Just let me know when you want more," Bones said softly. Jim nodded, focused on Spock's voice, soothed by his friends' noticeable efforts to calm him.

The burning sensation in his thigh had spread to his knee and leg long ago, just as Bones had previously mentioned, its searing heat like a brand but he didn't want to leave his friend's embrace. He wanted both: to be held and to be free of this pain. While he wanted to understand what his friends were telling him, he was afraid - and he didn't want to experience anymore of this crushing fear. 

He waited before speaking, almost hoping that they would just go ahead and be done with whatever they wanted to do with him because he was also too confused to argue. As long as he could stay like this. Protected. Cared for. Much like a captain wouldn't want to feel, he ascertained. Some captain he was. He was forgetful, blind, laid up with this leg that...

Jim took a sharp breath. If he had an infection caused by alien blood in his leg, that meant that he'd been in contact with a Re'an being, the contact possibly being of a violent nature. His hand had been damaged enough - crushed by a foot? - that modern medicine could not fix it quickly. His stomach injuries suggested he'd been kicked.

But by whom?

"Your crew," Jim asked, his heart thudding in his ears. He couldn't say "my crew." He couldn't even begin to identify himself as a former captain, not when he didn't even remember being one in the first place. "Was anyone else injured?"

He felt their hesitation, but Bones came through. "Minor injuries."

Had the Re'an hurt him as well as the crew? The very ones with whom he identified himself now? He flinched, pulling away from the idea.

"The crew is obviously in good hands with Spock as captain. But...what are you going to do with me?" He asked instead.

"What am I going to to with..." Bones choked. "We're not going to throw you out of an airlock, if that's what's worryin' ya."

Jim scrunched up his face. Airlock? What the _hell_ was an airlock?

_Jim, an airlock is the point of entry to a starship which allows ingress and egress to empty space or another vessel which has docked at the portal._

_That doesn't help me much, Spock._

_It will send you directly into the vacuum of space._

"I'm useless here," he said simply. He had nothing to offer, at least he didn't think he did. How could he? Blind? With no knowledge or memory of how this ship operated? The idea was ludicrous, yet they still wanted him here on this ship. He didn't even remember 'airlock,' and the way Spock answered him made his head spin.

He was certain every single person on this ship had a distinct purpose. Everyone except him. He was useless. 

"No." The authoritative tone in Spock's voice halted Jim's thoughts. He sounded much like a captain - and like a man Jim did not want to cross right now. Jim buried himself as much as possible in Bones' embrace. "You are not useless. You are Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise. Jim, you are a man of extreme intelligence and abilities, with unique and dynamic experiences that have made you who you are. Your blindness does not make you useless, and your blindness may cease if we strengthen our bond. The idea of you being aboard this ship is not ludicrous. I know for a fact that you recall certain skills that the ship requires to operate- they only need to be tested and practiced to resurface. There are ways to assist you once you are mobile. There are options to explore should you wish to acquire information from a data padd or the computers."

"That's not fair," Jim muttered.

"What isn't?" Bones asked softly.

"He read my mind. I can't read his."

"You cannot read my mind because I am shielding it from you nor do I project my thoughts unless I so desire. I can read your mind because you project what you are thinking quite easily."

While Jim mused on his dislike for being easily read, a warmth swept through his entire body and his leg ached much less than before. "Why is that?"

"You do not have the mental control required to stop yourself from doing so."

"Why don't I have control?"

"You have recently experienced trauma, Jim. Severe mental and physical trauma. I do not believe you would normally broadcast your thoughts in this manner."

"Oh." Once again, Spock's answer confused him, but Jim wasn't even sure he wanted to know what Spock meant by 'severe mental trauma.' He let the question die, thinking it unnecessary since his friends promised before to take care of the _whys_ \- and it was soon forgotten. 

"Depending upon the circumstance, a bond can have fragile beginnings. Control is learned."

"How do I learn that control?" Jim relaxed in Bones' arms and closed his eyes. This felt good. This was...

This was Spock's doing. Somewhat irritated at the Vulcan, he peeled his eyes open and took a slow, cleansing breath. He was _not_ going to sleep this time. 

"You must practice. It will strengthen our bond. You could also meet me halfway - by fighting my intrusion." Jim swore he heard amusement in Spock's voice. "Just as you are doing now, Jim."

 

* * *

  

Jim's ability to work with Spock extended for ten more minutes, until the Re'an influence came to the forefront.

"I shouldn't be doing this," Jim stiffened. "My mind is...it's..."

McCoy shook his head at Spock to stop. "It's what, Jim?"

"The captain is both confused and fatigued but mostly reluctant to continue," Spock said. McCoy scowled at Spock's address to Jim. It was pushing things, but it did elicit a reaction from Jim.

Jim huffed a breath, slowly kneading his forehead. "I don't see how you can call me that. That's not what I am. It's not who I am anymore. I'm...I'm tired, Bones."

"It looks like this will help stabilize your body temperature, Jim. It increased by .4 degrees. We can stop for now so you can rest."

"Ceasing our efforts is inadvisable at this point," Spock stated primly.

"It can wait. A few hours won't hurt, will it?" McCoy challenged the Vulcan.

Jim's hand fell to his lap and he remained silent for a moment, as if sensing that McCoy and the Vulcan were at odds with each other. "You're trying to get rid of it, aren't you?" He asked in a low voice. "The Re'an side? So I can be your captain again?"

"It is the logical thing to do, Jim," Spock answered.

"Is it what you wish us to do?" McCoy asked the last question on earth he wanted to Jim to consider, but they had all agreed that giving Jim the opportunity to choose would nurture his commanding side.

There was a slight crease to Jim's brow. "Why would I want to leave you when I have nothing to go back to? They're all dead, aren't they? Just like Dr. Jahnas. I couldn't save them."

With that statement, a large tear rolled down Jim's cheek.

**********previously on the Enterprise**********

"Doctor, I cannot wait one hour."

"Stay for thirty minutes, then, until we make sure all things are clear."

"As you wish, Dr. McCoy."

McCoy closed the curtain around the commander and rolled his eyes. Anticipating that very answer, he may have fudged a bit on the time in the first place. Jim would be proud, he smirked. The Vulcan had required an inoculation which varied from that of the humans' on the away team. Spock showed symptoms early on to another virus, similar to the Re'an virus, and although the inoculation at this time wouldn't do much good to stop the virus, it would stave off a more severe case. Thankfully, they'd caught it at the onset and before anything worsened. Spock would be as good as new before he walked out of sickbay.

McCoy turned around, catching sight of an ashen-faced Jim Kirk staggering up to the biobed next to Spock.

"What the hell is wrong with _you_? You were just in here a few days ago!"

"I know. Sick," Jim groaned, heaving himself on the bed - and heaving the contents of his stomach over the side before McCoy had a chance to contain it. Always on alert when Jim visited sickbay, a nurse was over and cleaning it up before McCoy could request assistance. Christine hustled over as well, grabbing a shirt from the drawer when she spied Jim had not been successful in keeping his command shirt clean.

"Why didn't you say anything earlier?" McCoy braced Jim shoulders as Christine pulled his shirt over his head, and then guided his arms into a softer, white one. He carefully lowered Jim back on the bed, not liking Jim's pale face nor the circles under his eyes. He allowed Jim to beam to Re'an after the second inoculation because he was showing no ill effects. But if he'd known these symptoms were going to emerge and run rampant, grounding Jim would have been the first thing on his mind, no matter the importance of the Re'an ceremony.

Jim's head fell limply on the pillow, looking at McCoy through heavily lidded eyes. He opened his mouth and said the one word that told him everything. "Leather."

"Shit, Jim," McCoy sighed, irritated with him already. "If your nausea and stomach pain is that bad, it is more than likely an allergic reaction to the vaccine. How long? Wait. Never mind. The tricorder tells me you're already dehydrated. But I could tell that from just lookin' at ya, ya idiot. Again, I must ask you why you didn't say a damn word about it earlier?"

The moron blinked widely at him. "I was busy. I wasn't here. You had to cover an emergency surgery, and this mission has too much at stake. And...I hated to mention it. You know why. Makes me think of Tarsus."

"And continuing to feel this sick doesn't make you think of Tarsus?" McCoy almost added sarcasm but softened his approach when guilt filled Jim's expression.

He understand the man's aversion, he did, and he had to give him credit for coming down here of his own accord. McCoy glanced sternly at Chris, who had paused in her work, grieved eyes upon Jim as she learned the truth of Jim's past. Surely Jim knew what he was doing, but the words slipped from the captain's mouth in his sickness. Good thing sickbay was shockingly empty other than the two nurses and the captain and his first officer, a Vulcan who now knew Jim's tightly fisted secret. Jim was so out of it he didn't even glare at the newly placed catheter in his hand. Instead, McCoy felt his friend's eyes on him as he programmed the computer.

"Dammit, Jim! If you'd waited any longer, I'd have to keep you in here for a few days. All things considered, you'll be lucky enough to get out tomorrow."

"You're not going to make me talk about it again, are you?" Jim mumbled, barely coherent. "Sit down with a therapist and give them the non-fairy tale version of what Starfleet screwed up?"

"As I clearly recall, Pike made you rehash more than enough of that during your first and second years at the Academy."

Jim made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat.

"Unless..." McCoy observed Jim grimly. "Are ya having problems again?"

"Kodos just haunts me when you force me to eat wheat, Bones."

"Jim..."

"And those slimy green things you have the audacity to call vegetables and 'good for you.'" Jim shivered.

"Give me a serious ans- "

Jim gagged, but McCoy timed it right as the captain was sick again, this time with nothing but stomach bile.

"Dammit, Jim."

"Put me out of my misery," Jim said hoarsely, his brilliant blue eyes pleading. McCoy helped him rinse and Chris wiped his brow with a cool cloth. Jim groaned, curling up on his side.

"If you don't answer the question honestly, I might just do that."

"I hate you sometimes, you know."

"Yep. I know. Feeling's mutual."

There was a pregnant pause. McCoy crossed his arms.

"I've been fine. Until now. Today." Jim said, words clipped but McCoy could read in Jim's expression that was telling the truth.

"Okay, then." McCoy held his gaze, not even looking at Chris except through the corner of his eye when she gave Jim the anti-emetic to combat the nausea. She did so with a gentleness McCoy hadn't seen from her in awhile, and he paused, considering that Jim's words had affected her. He made a mental note to talk with her later. "This is what we will do."

"What? A twelve-step plan?" Jim scoffed.

"No. It's simpler than that. For a few days, even during this mission, Jim, I'm moving into your quarters to stay the night. Just to make sure you're alright."

"But, Bones," Jim whined. "I...I wanted to ask..."

"What?"

Jim closed his eyes and turned his head. "Never mind."

"Or, who?" McCoy widened his eyes as Jim huffed a sigh. "Huh. It is a who, isn't it?"

"Shut it."

"Maybe...Dr. Jahnas?"

Jim didn't answer.

"Well, I'll stay in the bedroom, then. You two can stay in the living room. That room one is larger and even has a sofa and is maybe more suitable for whatever...whatever it is that you two have planned." McCoy smirked. "How does that sound?"

"It's not for a date," Jim weakly protested. "It's work in a casual setting. I'd like for us to continue our research one more day. We've been meeting more often already-"

McCoy couldn't help but take a sharp breath.

"See?" Jim whined again. "I knew you'd take it that way."

"Because she reminds you of Gaila?"

Jim nodded.

"And Gaila helped you with your nightmares?"

Jim nodded again, slowly.

McCoy filled with regret. "I see. I know I've hinted that you've transferred your dependence from Gaila to Dr. Jahnas in the past - and I was wrong to assume that. I'm sorry. And I know that's not where your mind is taking you this time, either. I'm sorry you hesitated to tell me about it, but, Jim...I still have to be there. You know the patterns and the ways you try to cope. We have to watch, especially since this allergic reaction could trigger things."

"I know." Jim grimaced. His arm lay limply across his abdomen as a miserable sigh slipped from his lips. Continuing to see to Jim's needs, Chris tucked the blanket around the captain.

McCoy laid a hand on Jim's sweaty forehead before brushing his hair back. He wished for the millionth time that things like this wouldn't always seem to find his best friend. But while they did, he would make damn sure he was there to do whatever it to help him, even if that meant cleaning up messes off the floor. "I will move you to a private room soon but first, I want you to sleep out here where I can keep a close eye on ya. You need it and it'll allow your body a respite from what it's been doing to ya. And Jim? I trust you."

"The feeling's mutual," Jim whispered before he closed his eyes.

McCoy waited beside Jim's bed while the sedative he slipped to him did its work. He also waited, because he knew any second the Vulcan would make known he'd heard the entire exchange.

"Dr. McCoy," Spock's voice quietly called him from behind the curtain.

McCoy pulled the curtain. "Yes, Spock."

"Why did you allow him to continue to speak so candidly while I was here?"

"Believe it or not, it was on his to-do list."

"To-do list?" Spock repeated, eyebrows arched.

"Yes. It was number 6 out of 256. 'Tell Spock about Tarsus.' Right after number 5, 'Make sure no one ever finds Scotty's stash of Romulan Ale.' He wanted to tell you before we were one hundred days into this five year mission. He was cutting it awfully damn close, though."

"Indeed. He had 4.3 days remaining."

"Considering all that's been happening around here lately and what he had on his mind, I figured this would make it easier on him. He already let the cat out of the bag, Spock."

"I see." Spock stood and came beside Jim's bed, face drawn and eyes piercing Jim's still and slumberous form as if he could read his mind from afar. "It was a most horrifying experience for a young boy."

"He'll tell you more about it someday, I'm sure. He wasn't just there Spock. He was one of those few survivors who saw and heard Kodos give the orders to execute thousands of people, Jim, his uncle, and his aunt included," McCoy said quietly. "He led a small pack of kids he rescued. They fought to stay alive through the starvation. All of them...until..."

Spock's eyes flipped up to meet his as McCoy paused. The other details weren't his to tell. McCoy almost took a step back at the intensity of emotion he saw swirling in those eyes. "It is not necessary for him to explain any further, doctor. I do not wish to make it more difficult for him. When you tell him that I now know of this part of his past, please also inform the captain that many things have now come into place for me concerning Jim Kirk but the depth of our friendship has not suffered. This has grounded our friendship, more so, but my loyalty and affection runs deep, having grown since the beginning. It is a brotherly love that flows as deeply as my affection for Nyota, even without a bond."

"Spock, as his best friend all these years, I can tell you with certainty that I think he needs to hear some of this from you. When the time is right, I mean. It would mean a lot to him."

"Very well," Spock stated simply. "When that time comes I will tell him. He is my friend and my captain and he always will be, no matter the circumstances that could bar the way."

********* end scene **********

Spock could see no one else but him revealing to Jim the sordid details of the Re'an. He also did not want anyone else to take up the task so he began quickly, mindful to keep several facts to himself. "Do you see that your intelligence reveals itself to you through these questions, Jim?"

"I shouldn't be asking them," Jim said, voice cracking with emotion as he dragged his sleeve across his eyes to wipe his tears away.

When Jim appeared to have strengthened his resolve, McCoy slipped off the bed. As soon as his shoes touched the floor, he received a comm from Dr. M'Benga. He relayed that one of the recent tests were successful and they could now begin administering an antidote that would work more efficiently to heal Jim's leg wound. McCoy excused himself, a slow smile on his lips at the positive news.

"You desire to ask them," Spock stated.

"I do." Jim bit his lip.

"Thus, I will answer your question. Yes, they are deceased, having succumbed to their violent tendencies. The meld occurred too late for them to use your memories to salvage their culture. Even if the meld had occurred days prior, it would have made no difference. Their numbers had diminished significantly before our arrival, as they were already in the throes of this degenerative state. We were unable to find an alternative. I grieve with thee, Jim."

Jim's face turned to stone, but it was a facade swiftly fading. Spock waited a moment, allowing his words to sink in. There was no other way to present the truth to Jim. It would prove more difficult for the captain if they waited.

He did not wish for Jim to desire to keep his Re'an tendencies. Those distanced Jim from them all. He also did not wish for the Enterprise to be Jim's second choice and felt a distinct loss that this was so. Not having Jim in his life as he had before wounded Spock. He never had the opportunity to share with Jim what he told Dr. McCoy because events on Re'an had escalated all too quickly. As much as he wanted to speak of this, he had perceived early on that he must wait. 'Tarsus' was much like 'captain' - hidden from Jim's mind behind the barrier. Indeed, even the facts behind Dr. Jahnas' manifested death remained hidden. 

To earn Jim's trust and to allow him to come to his own conclusions naturally, Spock decided that the next step must be taken.

"Jim, not all was lost," he said softly.

"I don't understand," Jim whispered. "They're dead. That's why you haven't discussed them with me at all."

"We have a guest aboard the Enterprise."

"Someone...someone survived?" Jim asked in disbelief.

"Because of your decision as captain, Jim, as well as your efforts to extract her, one did survive. One who wished to escape from the clutches of the Re'an and return to her human family."

"Soona," Jim said, awed. "Can she come here? For a visit?"

"No, she cannot."

In spite of his blindness, Jim stared at him in stunned silence.

"Wh...what?"

"I cannot permit her to visit you, Jim."

Jim's eyes flooded with tears. He began blinking them away in an obvious struggle to maintain his composure. "Wh...why not?"

Spock could not explain it in its entirety to Jim, but he pondered the reasons silently, as if to reinforce their decision in his own mind. The scent of snake lingered on Soona, as she kept in proximity with the remaining, dying creatures aboard the Enterprise. The scent triggered the Re'an tendencies in Jim. Visiting Soona guaranteed that the Re'an barrier would strengthen. He wished to inform Jim about the snakes and he would eventually, but he could not allow Jim to be near them. It was logical and prudent to keep this as simple as possible for Jim despite the pain that it caused.

"I cannot explain my reasons for disallowing her visit."

"Can I at least talk to her?" The captain clenched the edge of his blanket with a fist.

"I cannot allow that either, Jim."

"But just to hear her voice." Jim's voice cracked, his tears slipping out one by one. "She's the only other Re'an left."

"As Acting Captain of this vessel, I do not allow it."

Jim's tears now cascaded down his cheeks. "Please. Spock..."

As Jim's emotions projected in an even greater intensity, Spock was forced to make another decision. He could either put up his shields - and Dr. McCoy would return, greatly angered at Spock to see Jim in such a severe state of distress. Or, he could use this to show Jim that he was only acting in the captain's best interest and most influenced by his friendship with Jim.

The former was 100% logical. The latter completely unguarded and emotionally taxing - for them both.

"No, Jim."

"But..."

"No," he said firmly. "We will not discuss my decision any further."

"Spock, please." Jim choked on a sob.

_No, Jim. That is all we will speak of it._

_I can't believe you're doing this to me. It hurts._

_It is for your best interest, Jim._

_But she's the only one left. Please..._

_And you are our captain. You are the only one that should be sitting in the command chair of the Enterprise._

_Spock, I don't understand. Why are you fighting for me?_

Before he answered, Spock projected his emotions to Jim, preparing him for the depth of affection he wished to convey. He began slowly, building upon the intensity with each layer. In turn, he sensed Jim's earlier distress fade away as the warmth and love surrounded him. The captain relaxed, soon engrossed, in awe and fully experiencing and basking in the affection Spock carried for him as their friendship had grown over time.

_It is simple. Because my captain is no longer present, I have a gaping hole in my heart. It is simply neither logical nor acceptable to be without you._

McCoy's return in mind, Spock allowed only another moment to pass before disconnecting from the current transfer. Jim's tears had reduced to a tender leaking from the corners of his eyes, a result from receiving Spock's emotions. Once the captain was sated, no longer distressed but content in the pure warmth and love Spock had bestowed upon him, Spock removed himself from the transfer. The captain's breath hitched.

"That is enough for now. You will continue to absorb my emotions for some time, Jim. This has made our bond stronger. I will be able to alleviate your pain from a longer distance, until the antidote clears the infection. You will also be reminded that you have nothing to fear from us or by being here. We will be patient with you as we help you find your way amongst us once more. Jim? Do you understand?" Spock paused, sensing that Jim did understand and continued to be overwhelmed by Spock's emotions. Jim finally nodded, silent in his reply. "Very well. I am on duty and must leave when Dr. McCoy returns. Jim..."

Jim's eyes had closed but he nodded again.

"Do you feel the depth of my friendship?" Spock, of course, knew he did but asked for Jim's sake.

Jim lifted his good hand to wipe his eyes, the third nod almost imperceptible.

"I will return at 1800 hours if Dr. McCoy deems it permissible."

Jim cleared his throat but it did no good. His voice was rough, inaudible to human ears. "Please...do."

Spock laid a hand on his shoulder in one last act of comfort. The doors opened, McCoy entering and coming to a halt. With swift observation skills, the doctor began to assess the situation but Spock inclined his head to the doors. Spock strode from the room, turning once the doors closed to brace an arm against the wall. Liquid seeped from his eyes.

"Would you mind tellin' me what's going on?" McCoy said worriedly.

Spock lifted a sleeve to his face, preparing himself to explain what had transpired. He was doing all he could to return their captain to them, save ripping the barrier asunder, which would further damage Jim's mind. Jim needed time as these two personalities, these two separate forces, had begun to mix together. He needed time to be at ease on this ship - his own ship - by becoming mobile and discovering a task he could manage. Spock believed their true captain would eventually emerge. For now...they must wait. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene of Jim in sickbay raises the question, Why was Jim in sickbay before his allergic reaction? I will address that in a couple of chapters and give more insight into the truth behind Soona's situation, Jim's unlikely discovery of her, and how she came to be on the Enterprise.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to follow the intensity of the last chapter, but I tried. Again, this chapter is actually a little different from my original. If anyone from the Fanfiction site is following along, don't be alarmed. The last third is new, and the original end scene will now be the beginning of Chapter 28. I have you all to thank as I push myself a little bit more in my writing. I hope it's not the disjointed conglomerate I'm afraid it could be, being that the new scenes these past couple of chapters are very much un-beta'd. I am crossing my fingers it is a chapter that portrays exactly what I have in mind. We shall see. :) At any rate, hope you enjoy the read. One more chapter before we are all caught up.

McCoy's body coiled tightly as he observed the admiral's face on the screen. He attempted to read the man but found it impossible to find a crack in his expression. This was it, the conversation with Admiral Archer about Jim, a few days sooner than he'd like. They had spoken for some time already, but the admiral had not hinted one way or another if he would authorize Jim to remain on board. McCoy fought for the right to keep Jim aboard, of course, being that he was his physician, but a Starfleet officer in Jim's condition would ordinarily be sent to a Star Base facility for rehabilitation.

"Commander Spock and Dr. McCoy: I will be blunt to both of you and in my recommendations to the board. It is imperative that Jim Kirk return to the position as captain of the Enterprise, preferably prior to the conclusion of your five year mission. You and the Enterprise crew have performed miracles in the past. Indeed, I suspect that even now you are researching, investigating and experimenting more than we have discussed here. Continue your efforts to return Kirk to his former status. I'm giving you full authority to do whatever you deem necessary and appropriate. Jim Kirk is one of our most ingenious and resourceful officers and after hearing your concerns and reviewing your reports, I am confident he will find a way to accomplish some work on his ship despite his limitations. Contact me again once he has rehabilitated sufficiently and you certify him fit for duty as captain. Prior to that time, I also request that you send regular report to my office according to the schedule I'm sending now. One more thing..."

"Yes, Admiral," Spock replied.

"I would like to speak with Captain Kirk alone once he is settled in his quarters."

"Sir, with all due respect, I don't think -" McCoy protested.

"Hear me out, Dr. McCoy. I realize he is not Captain Kirk at this point in time and furthermore, that I am, essentially, a stranger to him. I will speak to him as if I would speak to a civilian under your care. I only want to see for myself what you have recorded in your logs. As far as the board, I feel I will be able to sway them, especially if I have spoken with Kirk personally."

"Admiral, that is an acceptable compromise." McCoy didn't dare breathe.

"I thought it would be." The admiral's tone softened. "Just get him well."

The screen went dark.

McCoy stared numbly at Spock. "I didn't think it would go that well. I honestly didn't think it would."

"I confess that I, too, did not calculate the odds to be in our favor. Your arguments were most convincing, doctor."

McCoy groaned and placed his head in his hands. He was relieved but exhausted. Last night he had covered a partial shift for M'Benga and, thus, lost his chance to catch up on sleep.

_"Sickbay to Dr. McCoy."_

McCoy tensed, glancing warily at Spock. "Go ahead, Chris."

 _"He's not eating, Leonard,"_ Christine whispered through the comm.

"Damn," McCoy muttered, mindful to be quiet. She must be in the same room as Jim. "He was difficult about it before I left last night, too. Alright. I'll be right there. McCoy out."

Spock's gaze pierced the doctor. "You received insufficient rest."

As unnerving as it was to see the hobgoblin concerned about his well-being, McCoy merely shrugged and heaved himself out of his chair. "I'll sleep sometime but for now, Jim needs to eat. His aversion to food heightened the past twenty-four hours."

"My decision to prohibit Soona's visit has upset him. Perhaps I can rectify the situation."

McCoy's eyebrows shot up. "If you're suggesting we let him see her, I will not agree to it."

"I am explaining why the captain cannot partake of his meals. Although he senses our compassion and friendship, he cannot help but remain troubled by my decision. He also continues to mourn the loss of the Re'an as it reminds him of similar emotions of his past. It is a combination that vexes him."

"You're right," McCoy recalled the quiet captain, who had hardly said another word after Spock left for the bridge two days ago. "We have to be careful, Spock. He could be depressed, and that only makes the situation worse. If he's depressed, he won't eat. If we want to continue to spoonfeed the truth to him, we need to be aware of this - and be sufficiently prepared. One thing is for certain...he's not ready to hear that Dr. Jahnas is alive because she can't be allowed to visit him, either."

"No," Spock said. "That visit would now be most illogical for three reasons. Given the situation with the snakes, she has been in direct contact with them like Soona. Secondly, now that we have had additional time to observe Jim's modified personality, I do not calculate their interaction to be suitable or beneficial for the captain at this time."

McCoy had also considered that second reason. Aleyah was...unpredictable and lively. Sometimes volatile, and Jim was always the one to deal with her then. At this point, Jim was a meek, quiet man who did not comprehend all the intricacies of Standard as he once had nor the basics of social interaction, especially any that involved women, let alone Orion women.

"Aleyah would eat him alive."

"Doctor, I assume you are not suggesting that the captain become sustenance for Dr. Jahnas. However, if I am interpreting the colloquialism correctly, that is, indeed, a danger."

McCoy snorted. "And the third reason?"

"The captain's despair following my initial decision nearly overwhelmed my controls, doctor. I cannot experience that level of emotion again and still be capable of assisting him in his recovery."

Though the honesty shocked him, McCoy schooled his features. He knew Spock cared deeply for Jim but the recent, stronger feelings of friendship were unlike anything he ever expected from the Vulcan. He was now certain he hadn't imagined the tears leaking from the commander's eyes as he stood outside Jim's room.

"May I accompany you, doctor?"

"To sickbay?"

Spock nodded. "He is distressed despite my efforts to calm him from this distance. My presence will soothe him."

"It will, will it?" McCoy sighed in mock exasperation. "If you must..."

But he couldn't help the barest of smiles that appeared on his face as he left the ready room. Not only did Jim have him, he had a Vulcan who just admitted he had a heart. McCoy never thought he'd live to see the day. Hobgoblins.

* * *

 

Spock was correct, of course. As Spock settled into a chair next to Jim, he finally took a bite to eat.

But then a tentative voice broke the silence. "Bones."

"Yeah?" McCoy said, not looking up from the computer. Jim's body temperature hadn't budged since yesterday when Spock directed Jim to 'test' their bond. He'd prefer more progress, but he didn't see how he could push that today. Not until he knew Jim was on his way to healthier eating habits - and a little stronger.

"I...I'm..." Jim's voice broke.

McCoy turned around then, Jim's woeful eyes unexpected. "Jim, is something wrong?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered, knuckles whitening as he clenched the spoon in his left hand. McCoy wanted to ask him to use his weaker hand, but something in Jim's voice made him pause. "For...not eating. I...know that upsets you. It worries you. It always has. I mean, I think it has. I just...couldn't. I'm...upset but I can eat now that Spock's here...but..."

McCoy gently stopped Jim, enveloping the cool hand which held a spoon. "Don't say another word about it. I'm not upset."

They could delay this for a little while longer. He couldn't bear to see Jim waste away anymore but he didn't want Jim to begin hacking it back up if he wasn't ready.

"Are you sure you're ready to eat now?"

"I don't know...I..." Some emotion flickered across his face.

"Jim is concerned that soon he will experience a panic attack," Spock said quietly.

Jim bit his lip and gave one short nod.

"During his first semester at the Academy he suffered a panic attack following a similar period of stress and inability to consume food."

McCoy filled with dread. "You remember that?" He asked with hesitation.

"Some." Jim set his jaw and pulled his hand away from McCoy's.

"Do you remember what triggered it?" McCoy prayed he didn't. He had a hunch that Jim would not deal well remembering Tarsus while he was grieving the utter desolation of a species with whom he identified himself.

"He does not," Spock answered as Jim withdrew.

McCoy breathed silent thanks for the Vulcan's bond with Jim. They may be able to make sense of this after all because McCoy reasoned there was more to the lack of eating than they first thought.

Jim's shoulders folded forward. "Should I?" He whispered, eyes pooling with liquid.

"It's perfectly fine that you don't right now." McCoy squeezed his shoulder, but Jim held his shoulders rigidly.

"I only remember that you were upset after it happened. Threw a glass and a plate against the wall when you thought I was sleeping. Then you tried to punch a hole in the wall."

McCoy winced as understanding finally dawned, and it was most painful to ask Jim the question burning on his tongue. "You think I will be upset with you if you can't eat."

Jim averted his face. "I don't think I could stand it if you were mad at me like that, Bones...again."

McCoy's heart broke as his friend referenced their 'disagreement.' "I won't be upset and I wasn't mad at you then at the Academy. I was mad at what caused you to be so ill."

His friend from before would understand that...Jim did understand that. But this Jim? McCoy thought he was going to be sick. It was all too clear to McCoy that the meld had done damage that could take weeks...months to reverse, even when their captain came back to them. Especially if memories came back to Jim like a slow but powerful storm about to hit. Or like a tornado ripping through his mind. McCoy wasn't sure which way was more formidable.

"Oh," Jim murmured, the food before him obviously on his mind.

"It can wait, Jim. We can go back to broth or soup."

Jim shook his head and lifted his spoon. "I'll try for you, Bones."

Seeing that he was determined to do so, McCoy stepped back and watched. Jim dipped into his applesauce. McCoy's chest ached as Jim took a second bite, his face twisting with distaste. This wasn't supposed to happen to them. To Jim. He didn't want be in space for the rest of this five-year mission without Jim as his captain. He didn't want to, but he would. He wouldn't leave him. Ever. Especially not now, when his friend had changed so much. Although he latched on to the same hope as Spock that their Jim would return, he couldn't abandon this one. He liked the kid. He loved him now just as he had before. He even smiled at the differences, some of them so polar opposite of Jim's old self that he got a kick out of this new persona.

"Maybe some cinnamon would help," Christine said softly behind him. McCoy had forgotten she was there, maybe she had left and come back again, but it seemed as if she held the answer in her hand - literally. Honest to goodness spice that no replicator itself could ever match.

"Where did you get that?" McCoy arched a brow.

"I like to cook, you know that, Leonard."

She sprinkled on the cinnamon for the captain, eliciting a smile from Jim when she told him that she didn't like plain applesauce, either. After a cautious bite, he dove into the applesauce like there was no tomorrow.

McCoy breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Chris."

"Sure." She smiled, then adding in a conspiratorial whisper, "It wasn't exactly just cinnamon, but my own special blend."

McCoy frowned. His nurses all knew better than that.

"It's a secret, but never fear, doctor. I memorized his allergies and I know how much you hate him eating anything with extra sugar," she whispered, throwing him bemused look.

When Jim was almost done with his food, McCoy decided it was the perfect time to mention the next step. Time to give Jim a goal, one that McCoy was sure to continue to brighten both Jim's outlook as well as his own and ease the misery that was hinted of in Spock's expression. He didn't know how much of Tarsus the Vulcan had seen during the melds with Jim, but given the emotion in those dark eyes, it was more than McCoy had first thought.

"We're moving ya to your quarters soon."

Jim's hand paused mid-air. "I have quarters? Even though I'm not captain? Even though I'm not him anymore?"

McCoy's breath left him. Was that how Jim saw himself? Granted, McCoy had even begun thinking of Jim as two separate personas, even though the man before him was still his best friend.

"Yes. You will be given your previous quarters, Jim," Spock's calm voice slowly pulled McCoy back to reality. "It is only logical."

"You may not remember it, Jim, but it will create some comfort for you," McCoy managed.

"When will you move me?"

"Once you've had a few more days of therapy." McCoy paused, seeing Jim's expression fall. "And you've managed to walk the length of sickbay." It wouldn't be long. Jim's leg had healed rapidly, almost overnight with the new drug.

Jim remained silent. McCoy racked his brain for something to throw out as an incentive.

"I'll make sure Garig comes by when I'm gone today and gets another bath ready for you when therapy is over."

"I take a bath every day, Bones. A long one."

McCoy rested a hand on Jim's shoulder. "You like them."

"I'm warm when I take them," Jim turned his head, expression filled with embarrassment.

McCoy fought a frustrated sigh as Jim's confession only emphasized the steady problem regarding his body temperature. Spock deduced that although strengthening their bond broke the barrier and benefitted Jim in the long run, it was the very thing causing this instability and flux of temperature. "Buddy, we're working on that. Meanwhile, trust me when I say two baths a day is fine."

"It's because I was captain, isn't it?"

"What are you talking about?" McCoy asked softly.

"The water credits...I have a lot."

It was time for more truth. "It is part of it, yes."

Jim turned his head back towards McCoy. He chewed on his lip, silent.

"You can ask me anything, Jim.

"Why do I have a lot as captain? Wouldn't other crew members need them more than I do?"

Spock arched an eyebrow, and McCoy couldn't help but grin a little at Jim's first official question regarding his captaincy. "That's exactly why you have a lot as captain."

Jim's face filled with confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You gave a portion of yours away at your own discretion," Spock answered.

"I guess...that's good, right?"

"It is very generous, and does not go unnoticed by the crew," McCoy said. "Although you did give away part of your credits, you have more than enough to allow this for little while because you have only used the sonic shower since we left Earth. If it makes you feel better, you have a sound medical reason to enjoy these baths, Jim."

"So I can have another bath today?" Jim asked, his eyes searching for McCoy in his darkness.

It hurt that Jim couldn't see it, but he offered his friend a small smile in return. What they had planned to get Jim ready for his quarters was going to help. McCoy was sure of it. "Absolutely. "

* * *

 

"Chris," McCoy clutched Nurse Chapel's arm and escorted them both out of Jim's room once he confirmed that Spock could remain for a brief time. "That? In there? Do you realize what you did for him?"

"He's my captain, Len," she said, her gaze straight ahead. "It is my duty."

"Don't give me that," McCoy scowled. "Something's up with you, and I've noticed it since the very day that Jim came in with the allergic reaction. You've never been this gentle with him. Chris, you've been going above and beyond what I ever expected."

"I don't know what you mean."

McCoy sighed heavily. "You know better than to play games with me. Just tell me the truth. What the hell has made you go soft on Jim Kirk?"

Christine stopped, pulling McCoy closer as they stood right at the edge of the main area of sickbay. "After Nero? And before I received my next assignment? I put in some time to work with children - young teens - who suffered at the hands of abusive parents, including being starved near death. And then I worked with adults who..." Christine clamped her mouth shut, her eyes now hooded.

"Go on," McCoy urged her gently.

"I looked deeper into myself, contemplating what I was actually even doing as a nurse. It had me questioning many things, Leonard. Coming back to the Enterprise, I could never put my finger on it, then, but the captain showed the signs of things I learned those few months. I don't know why I hadn't figured it out before, and I wish I had. Even Carol asked me shortly before we left for this mission if I had ever considered that Jim had suffered some sort of trauma as a child. Maybe I had put blinders on, Len. My experience with Jim had been rocky from the start but then you know how Dr. Marcus' pled his case and then Jim contacted me with a genuine smile and request to come aboard. Dr. Marcus has an even softer spot for him than I do now, you know. She always has." Christine smiled.

"Listen to me, Chris," McCoy frowned, although he was honestly relieved that at least one other person he worked closely with in sickbay knew this part of Jim's past. It would make things a hell of a lot easier if they were ever in a pinch. If Jim needed someone besides McCoy and McCoy was unavailable. "What you just explained to me and whatever I say next-"

"I know," Christine said softly. "Dr. Marcus does not know any details. I know my duty to my captain."

"Could you possibly adjust more dishes for Jim? Tweak them to his liking? And then give the recipes to the chef? I will give you an extended list of his allergies, but I will have to approve all ingredients. I have seen a slight change in his preferences, of course. His palate has altered, thanks to the damn meld. For the most part though, it is the one part of this whole mess that hasn't actually worsened, considering."

"I would be happy to. Maybe once he's settled in his quarters I can bring a variety over. Nyota and Carol can help me, as long as I can get free rein in the kitchen."

"That will not be a problem," McCoy said firmly. "I have some time before Spock needs me on the away team today. I'll stay here with Jim. I'd like you get a headstart on this. Take my office, alright?"

"Yes, doctor."

As Christine walked away, McCoy imagined their captain enjoying most of his food. He could name on one hand the things Jim showed excitement about eating. This was the first good thing he saw coming out of this mess. He hoped it wouldn't be the last.

* * *

 

Jim leaned on his cane, his breath hot on his hand as he reached up and wiped his mouth. He closed his eyes, certain he was in a room that was spinning, like the Re'an room, the room with the...the...Jim's neck and face heated even more as he reconsidered where his thoughts were taking him. He seemed to lose all control during these sessions. Usually he ended up biting his tongue to keep himself from saying the wrong thing to his therapist, Marin.

_Jim, you must focus on your therapy. Dr. McCoy will be there shortly._

Spock was right. This was what they wanted him to do, and he wanted to try to do his best for them, these two friends he loved despite the haze of memories. Jim exhaled a strangled breath, wiping at his forehead with the edge of one of his shirt sleeves, for he was wearing not one shirt, not two, but three to stay warm through this physical exertion. He repeated Spock's words to himself, but found himself too uncomfortable and winded to concentrate on anything at all. The trickle of sweat down his back had accumulated faster than he'd like. He wasn't sure exactly how far he'd made it, but it couldn't have been a great distance. Outside his room, probably, or right in the doorway and no further. Jim groaned, feeling his sweat on every inch of his body even more now that he stopped. His shirt clung to his skin like the therapeutic glove did to his hand, and he doubted anyone would be able to peel it off before he made it to that bath Bones promised him. He wasn't exactly certain he wanted to wait to undress before he plunged into the tub to rid himself of this slick sweat. Jim wiped a hand across his forehead, unsure if he was allowed to take a moment to catch his breath. He didn't want to upset anyone by doing the wrong thing, and he certainly wasn't going to begin making requests. It just wasn't his way, although Bones encouraged him to ask for things.

For the most part, Jim had yet to do so. But maybe...maybe voicing his frustration in this setting wouldn't be against the Re'an way.

"I hate this," he muttered, for the first time vocalizing what had been on his mind since he remembered working with the therapist. That day had been well over a week ago when he had been bed-ridden. The time spent in therapy for his hand was worse than this - this standing and taking steps. He wasn't in nearly the same amount of pain he'd been in then. It was the fatigue which drove his slow progress and filled him with frustration. It was the tiredness that he felt more acutely now that he was out of his bed.

It was learning that he had been captain.

Bones' captain. Spock's captain. Their leader, when it was Jim who clearly needed the leading. He felt shaken to his core, rudely awakened from his closed world and torn from the Re'an one. Jim swallowed back the grief welling up inside of him. He couldn't think of them now, not when Bones wanted him to do well today.

"I know you do, Jim," the therapist murmured softly. "Your leg is stiff, but given the progress you've made in just one day, tomorrow will be even better."

How could tomorrow be better? He'd still be their former captain - and as confused as ever.

_No, Jim. Tomorrow, you will see your progress. Focus on your therapy. You do not need to be concerned about 'captain.'_

"I have water for you. Drink slowly."

"Where are we?" Jim inhaled a short breath, almost gasping as he exhaled and fought for another.

They were on a starship. Where he'd been captain, a man who was a complete stranger to him.

_But we know you, Jim._

"After you catch your breath, take a moment to figure it out for yourself." She pressed a water bottle into his hand. He gulped most of it down, ignoring her caution to drink slowly. He wanted Bones to come back. Bones was...he was...Just where was Bones? What was he doing for the rest of the day? He admitted he may have not been paying attention earlier. He'd done the same thing yesterday. And the day before that. Things were a blur.

What was clear to him was Spock's friendship and affection as Jim learned about the Re'an. He recalled Bones holding him for a very long, long time and responding to Jim's needs with the compassion Jim knew he had. Spock projected these safe thoughts to Jim in an endless cycle.

"Is something wrong, Jim?"

Jim reluctantly pulled the bottle from his lips. "I can't remember where Bones said he was going."

"Dr. McCoy will return soon, but first, can you tell me where you are?"

The therapist was as adept as deflecting as he was, or thought he had been. Or...maybe Bones hadn't said anything in regards to what he was doing. Why was he even curious? Jim blinked again, asking incredulously, "The hall outside my room?"

"You're right. You made it clear to the end."

"Do I have to make it all the way back?" Jim whispered.

Did he have to become their captain again? Couldn't he just be...himself?

From Spock, there was silence.

The therapist made a humming noise. Jim closed his eyes, listening to it some more. "If I want to keep my head, I must make sure you do exactly that."

Keep her head?

_She does not wish to face the wrath of Dr. McCoy for failing her responsibility as your therapist, Jim._

"Fuck," Jim whispered, testing the word that he had heard in his mind minutes ago. It was a strong word. Vulgar, maybe, but venting felt good. "I can't do this."

He couldn't be captain. He didn't want to be. He didn't want to work. He felt like he'd been working even before the damn therapy began - working on not drowning in a sea of the unknown. And now, he could hardly lift his head up above these things that he couldn't even begin to compute.

Like... _captain_.

"Fuck."

"You can do this, Jim." She soothed in his ear. "I'll be right here, marking your progress."

 _Jim, listen to your therapist,_ Spock soothed in his mind. _I am always by your side._

The Vulcan's voice in his head droned on, and Jim shuffled. He imagined Bones' hand on his arm and his encouraging drawl nudging him along instead of Marin. Jim leaned on the presence in his mind to make it back to his bed, despite imagining every Re'an that he had met, now dead. He leaned on the promise of Bones returning and suppressed his tears of grief and loss.

 

* * *

 

McCoy walked into sickbay with the intention of first speaking to Christine and the therapist before returning to Jim's room. He instantly located one of the people he wanted to see. "Marin, how did the therapy go today?"

"He showed some spirit today, Dr. McCoy."

"It's about damn time he did." McCoy waited for the explanation. As surprised as he was to hear this, he was also relieved. How could anyone work with Marin and not vocalize how hard she was to please? Even as passive as Jim was, after a week and a half working closely with her or with the equally as tough cousin Bruk, something was going to have to give. Jim couldn't keep his emotions pent up like this forever.

Whatever Jim did, it was a beginning and very much only the tip of the iceberg.

"He did not like it that I made him walk back to his room," Marin smiled. "I confess that the captain's vulgar language was refreshing to hear. When we reached his room, he told me to be careful and, I quote, 'Don't be surprised if the damn door closes on your ass on the way out.'"

McCoy choked back laughter. "He did, did he?"

"I don't think he actually meant for me to hear that and I'm not terrible certain he even knew the words came from his mouth. In fact, I'm positive he didn't," Marin took a breath. "Before that, as I helped him sit down, I could see that his right arm was giving him some trouble. He favored his left and his right shoulder drooped. His face had a painful, bruised look. I think that it was a subconscious reaction to keep himself under control."

McCoy sighed. Spock did say he knew Jim was troubled today but not enough to warrant postponing the mission. It was good for Jim to have a little bit of time away from them, even if McCoy thought of his best friend every damn minute that he was away.

"He did very well today. I have no doubt he'll walk the length of sickbay by the end of the week so you can move him where he could possibly be more comfortable."

"Marin, I'm sorry about - "

"There's no need to apologize for him." Her smile grew. "It was the pay-off for me - finally. I feel better about my job when things like this happen. Despite his frustration and emotional trouble, it was a good day."

 

* * *

 

McCoy entered Jim's room, satisfied with what he saw. Garig sat a few feet away from Jim, stoic as he watched the captain sleep in the tub.

"I got it from here." McCoy said softly and took a seat on the edge of the tub, which held a ridiculous amount of bubbles.

Garig must have seen his slightly confused expression. "He didn't ask for them, but...last time he found the few bubbles there were and slowly popped them. Since he can't see them, I believe he also enjoyed the difference in texture. Today, the process put him to sleep about five minutes ago."

If all this wasn't a little bit of the old Jim showing through, McCoy would eat his tricorder. As Garig slipped out quietly, McCoy decided his friend needed a little tender care. Smiling to himself at Jim's light snoring, he took a bottle of mint lotion one of the nurse's concocted and rubbed it on Jim's scalp. There were a few spot of dryness, and he wanted Georgia to continue to comfort his best friend. Jim was always subdued but it was time for bed, albeit a little earlier than usual. A long, uninterrupted rest was necessary. He had worked hard today. If anyone deserved this care, it was Jim. McCoy wouldn't be alive today had it not been for Jim's sacrifice in the Re'an's sacred room. Neither would Spock, Nyota, or Sulu.

As when Jim went into the warp core, the sacrifice had been too much. 

 

* * *

 

Jim sighed into the hot, minty water. It was during the times like these that he truly felt warm, other than when his friend had held him two days ago. Jim's stomach had twisted when he'd thought of asking his nurse, Garig, for the added flair to his bath water, but the nurse added the bubbles before he even asked, not that Jim would have followed through, anyways.  Now, Garig sat by the tub, giving him the only privacy he was allotted to by Dr. McCoy: not much. Weary from the physical therapy, Jim didn't mind. His water provided bubble coverage, not that he had illusions of any privacy in the first place. Things had begun to click in place, including how long he may have been in sickbay: over three weeks. A nurse slipped yesterday, earning an earful from Dr. McCoy that Jim heard loud and clear from his room. When he thought about it, Jim really hadn't been surprised. The catheters had clued him in, especially with the warnings they gave after they removed them. Now that his leg had healed and allowed him more movement, everything was even harder than it had been before. Especially walking, but he'd done what the therapist had asked. When Garig came with clear instructions that a bath was scheduled before the doctor returned, no words had ever sounded sweeter.

"Buddy, your skin's as red and wrinkly as a newborn."

Jim's head shot up at Bones' voice, suds splashing everywhere as his arms jerked in his surprise. "You're back. I should get out."

"Hey, now. Take it easy." Bones' hand gently guided Jim's head back against the pillow he was using in the tub. "I was only joking. You can take as long as you like. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. You worked hard today."

Jim rubbed at his eyes but the stinging only worsened.

"Here," Bones said softly. "I'm going to rinse your eyes with some clean water."

When Bones' hand gently lifted Jim's chin and water spilled over his eyes to flush out the suds, Jim felt like he'd been punched in the stomach.

Tears sprung and slid down, mingling with the water coursing down his cheeks. Jim froze, wondering why it bothered him that Bones was doing this. "Bones," his voice cracked. "I don't...I mean...this...I..."

"Shit," Bones whispered. "Hold on, Jim." A soft cloth patted his eyes dry and soon, the strong arms of the southern doctor lifted him out of the tub.

Jim shivered until he was placed on his bed, dressed quickly by his friend, and covers pulled over him, the soft blankets tucked around him on all sides. He latched on to Spock's calm murmurings and tried desperately not to think too much why Bones was holding him and apologizing to him once again. He was lulled to sleep before he came to any revelations.

 

 


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too much I want to say about this chapter before you read except...poor Jim. Again. This is a pretty full chapter and actually much (much) longer than I intended it to be. More things to come into play as Jim moves from sickbay to his quarters. This is where it's going to get even tougher, as his world continues to broaden and little glimpses of the old Jim slip out. One reviewer on another site mentioned to me that the 2-becoming-1 may not be the best thing, not that Jim can help it at this point. And then this chapter came along and that was amended to being 'a bad idea.' Really, I will leave that up to you to decide for yourself, because as more unfolds and Jim juggles these almost opposing sides of himself and McCoy and Spock struggle with decisions, that will be something to ponder. 
> 
> 'Kay. I guess I said more than I thought I would. :) My next update will most likely be this weekend, although much sooner if both time and energy suddenly fall into my lap. To those reading - thank you. Hope you are enjoying this story.

Spock regarded the fidgeting doctor standing inside his quarters. Nyota sipped a glass of water from her vantage on the couch, her feet tucked under her as was her habit in the evening. She tilted her head as she, too, watched McCoy cross his arms and lean against the wall only to straighten and pace in silence.

McCoy's visit tonight did not come as a surprise. Tomorrow marked the captain's transfer to his own quarters. It was a decision made by McCoy himself but having previously observed the doctor's behavior in sickbay, Spock already knew of his apprehension. "You are troubled, Dr. McCoy."

"Spock, I'm not sure Jim's ready for this."

At the mention of Jim, Spock's eyes fell on the untouched chess board on the table, the centerpiece Spock could not bring himself to put away. Its pieces lovingly cleaned by Nyota but otherwise left alone by his wife, the set, at times, was an illogical, haunting mockery of the captain's unfortunate circumstance. 

"You cannot continue to shield him, doctor."

"Did you really just say that to me?" McCoy mouth dipped down.

"I assure you, doctor, that I did-"

"Spock," Nyota interrupted softly.

McCoy pointed his finger at Spock, his voice accusatory. "I've not been oblivious to the around the clock help you've been giving him. Being that you were preoccupied during the mission, I expected Jim to lose more control over the damn water in his eyes. But he didn't, and he fell asleep within minutes. Since then, although I know he's been exhausted by the therapy for both his leg and his arm, he's been too subdued. Quiet but content, almost like he's in a trance but...not. And that's all your doing."

"Indeed, it is," he admitted. It was the least he could do for the man whose very nature propelled him to sacrifice himself repeatedly. "I must shield him while I can still do so freely. It is for his benefit, doctor."

"And you're telling _me_ not to protect him?"

"I did not order you to cease in your efforts to provide the captain comfort, doctor." 

McCoy groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Unbelievable. Do you know how exasperating you are sometimes, Spock? If you didn't tell me stop, then what, pray tell, _did_ you tell me?"

"Despite our efforts, we cannot expect that we are infallible. Neither can we expect the forces around us to conform to our desires."

"You're saying to expect...trouble?" McCoy rubbed a hand over his haggard face. "I am, dammit! I am every day! I'd just like for trouble not to come until he's a little more emotionally stable. I think he needs something from us right now that we haven't quite figured out. And, I can't put my finger on it."

"I have no doubt that you will soon determine the captain's needs, doctor." 

"Better be soon." McCoy's heavy sigh weighed down his shoulders. McCoy waved a hand at him, turning towards the door. "G'night, Spock. Uhura." 

Spock arched a brow at the sudden turn in conversation, but McCoy paused, appearing to have reconsidered his exit. 

"Leonard, what is it?" Nyota asked softly.

"When the time comes, he's never going to forgive me, is he?"

"You don't know that," she replied, coming to her feet. Her eyes pierced him with compassion. "Those memories may disappear before he recalls them in greater detail."

McCoy looked away, sniffling as he rubbed at one eye and then the other. "I'm so tired my goddamn eyes are running like Jim's mouth does after he's indulged a little too much in Scotty's stash."

"It's not shameful to discuss your emotions with friends, Leonard." Nyota handed him a tissue.

Spock turned his attention elsewhere, sensing the captain stir in his sleep and determining that he could help Jim from afar.

"What would you do, if you were me?" McCoy implored them. 

As Nyota drew a breath, Spock projected calming thoughts to his captain. "Be honest but only if the situation allows," Nyota said gently. "You know as well as the rest of us that he is not ready be told that most of what he believes is a lie. He's not ready because what the Re'an left in his mind will strengthen."

"This move...it's gonna do things. He's gonna find out. If he finds out too early and shuts down...." McCoy's jaw clenched. 

"If that happens, it won't be your fault. He is in a period of self-discovery. We are all aware of these risks and we also know how to properly care for him."

"I hate seeing my friend this way," McCoy said in a low, hoarse voice. "I'd spend the rest of my life trying to protect him from what is bound to come. I'd do anything to take away the pain he'll feel once the inevitable happens and it all comes crashing down around him. I'd do anything, because I know Jim will feel it all...and even more deeply now that he has changed."

"What you are doing now for him is of utmost importance. Worrying about the future will not help Jim. Get a good night's sleep, Leonard. He needs you at your best tomorrow. I don't doubt your predication that this will be hard on him. Maybe it won't be difficult tomorrow, but it will be someday. For now, we take this one step at a time along with our captain."

As both men considered the wise words of Nyota, McCoy turned back to the door, looking dead on his feet. "Nyota, thank you. Spock, he needs you now more than ever."

Spock almost remained silent, wanting to wait until McCoy disappeared from view to respond only to his bondmate. However, Nyota prodded him to speak his peace before their friend left for the night.

"In turn, I have calculated that his presence in my life is a complete necessity," Spock stated. "I will not allow harm to come to Jim while you sleep. Return to your quarters at peace, Dr. McCoy."

McCoy's eyes widened. "Spock, I do believe that I will."

That being the last thing spoken between them for the night, the doctor sighed happily and left for his quarters. 

Nyota grasped Spock's arm and her eyes, intense and thoughtful, locked with his. She was proud of him, and while it was not an emotion he permitted himself to frequently experience, he was gratified to know this. It had both pleased her and provided comfort for the doctor.

While he ruminated on his bond with the captain and how it revealed to him Jim's dynamic mind despite the meld's damage, she stood on her toes and brushed her lips across his cheek. What Nyota said was correct. However, Spock had calculated the level of intellectual and amiable communication he would experience through his bond with Jim after his recovery. He now longed for it. He anticipated it, but their present actions were, indeed, of utmost importance in regards to Jim's recovery. So as Nyota slept beside him, with one hand curled upon his chest, Spock did not sleep.

Instead, he projected a continuous low level of calmness to Jim, warding off the succession of nightmares which threatened to disturb the captain endlessly through the night.

 

* * *

 

"Alright, laddie," Mr. Scott cackled. "Once the good doctor has those in place, I'll hand you the data padd and you can begin. I cannae think of a better way to start the day than on a morning stroll with your lady."

Jim smiled, hesitant and a bit too tired from his short but concentrated physical therapy session for his hand and arm to handle the Scotsman's energy this morning - or his metaphors. Dealing with the ones Bones threw at him was hard enough. The addition of the dazzling words of the Scotsman was enough to make Jim want to go dive under the covers of one of the beds here in sickbay. The lady...the lady...morning stroll with his lady... _Spock, what does that even mean?_

_Mr. Scott is referring to the Enterprise as a female, Jim. "The lady" is a term of endearment that you both use in regards to this vessel. To take a stroll with your lady means to walk the corridors of the Enterprise._

Jim nodded but the reference hit him as rather odd. He had loved this ship that much? Maybe they had told him about that reference already. He couldn't keep it all straight. Spock had explained many things since he'd realized he had been the captain of this ship, mostly things Jim didn't realize he was asking in the first place until after Spock answered him.

At first, Jim had been slightly put off; he was mourning the loss of the Re'an and continued to harbor some level of resentment towards Spock for disallowing a visit with Soona, despite the warm attachment he had to Spock and Spock had to him. But, ever since he realized they had a bond, hearing Spock consistently in his head - sometimes as a soothing murmur almost beneath his consciousness and other times as the only voice of reason that would save him from asking a question that would embarrass himself- it had become a constant he now appreciated and anticipated. Especially when he wanted to sleep, because he found it difficult to do so without a sedative. Every night, Spock projected a calmness that Jim latched on to eagerly.

He would have liked to have kept those last thoughts to himself, but it was too late. He already sensed a frank smugness from the Vulcan.

"Spock, did you clear the corridors from here to Jim's quarters?" McCoy asked as he placed the second chip in Jim's other ear. Jim found comfort in the fact that the doctor had asked Spock the same question not five minutes ago. He was looking out for Jim, which contrasted with the feeling he had that not long ago, the doctor had not looked out for him. He had ruminated this morning on Bones' apology from over a week ago, more perturbed at himself for clearly having no sound reason to be afraid or upset with him at all. Especially as Jim reflected on the numerous, comforting acts of the doctor.

Jim simply didn't understand any of it, including his condition. He almost didn't want to; his stomach twisted when he started thinking about these things. Strangely enough, Spock offered him no feedback to clarify these incidents, either.

"Affirmative, doctor."

"Jim, they're tiny but powerful. Let us know if the sound's too loud."

"Here ye are, Jim." Scott's hand placed a miniature data PADD in Jim's gloved hand. "Go on..."

Sweat beaded along his forehead. Jim sucked in a breath as the therapeutic glove automatically forced his fingers to grip the device.

"That was a wee bit better than yesterday," Scott's bright voice echoed.

Jim lifted the device to his chest, pain firing from his hand past his wrist to his elbows. The small PADD might as well have weighed a ton for the time it took him to do just that.

"Good work, Jim," Bones' hand rested upon Jim's shoulder. "Now, find the loop on your belt and hook the device there."

Jim clenched his jaw, using his other hand to locate the loop. He transferred the device to the loop in over a minute yesterday during the first trial run, which had been far too long for his liking. He hoped to do better today. He sighed in exasperation when he missed the hook the first time.

"Try again," Bones murmured in his ear.

His hand felt as if it had been rendered in two but he huffed a breath and tried again, the device catching. He closed his eyes in relief. His hand dropped to his side, unclenching itself, and the muscles along his entire arm cramped. He sucked in a breath as the pain grew, but soon the discomfort faded. It was Spock, and Jim didn't protest. He didn't have faith in himself that he could do what Bones wanted him to do today if the pain in his hand continued to distract him: find his way to his quarters using the device and a cane, be given a tour of his quarters, and undergo some testing that Chekov was preparing while Bones and Spock were on duty. Shore leave had officially ended the day he'd walked into the hallway outside his room. He would be seeing less of his best friends and more of the senior crew as they continued to operate in shifts to visit him.

The day had been exhausting already and it was only mid-morning. Thanks to both Marin and Bruk, the therapy for his arm and hand had been grueling.  It wasn't the last he would see of them. They were scheduled to visit his quarters each day. The good news was that the infectious wound healed earlier in the week and since yesterday he was getting around by himself without a limp. However, his body had been mostly dormant for over three weeks recovering from surgeries and various injuries. Movement was still laborious. He only hoped he wasn't as dizzy as he was yesterday when he had walked the length of sickbay and lost sense of his surroundings.

"You know the drill," Bones squeezed his shoulder then dropped his hand.

Jim was on his own. He nodded and straightened his shoulders. His fingers touched the edge of the padd. Finding the raised portion, he pushed down on the button. The device scanned the room, filtering what Jim needed to know to walk out of sickbay's doors, into the corridor, and finally to his quarters. The program informed him of every inch of his surroundings.

He stood a few seconds too long, almost twitching.

"Jim?"

"I...uh..." Jim rubbed his head, which was the very thing on his mind. He felt the bare, cool skin of his skull - and he hated it. Something like this shouldn't bother him, should it? Where had his hat gone?

"I believe that the captain-"

"Spock," he shook his head, transferring his weight to the other foot. "No captain and no...no...just forget it."

"Jim, you keep rubbing your head." Bones hesitated. "Is it the hair?"

"Never mind," he mumbled, hating he was so transparent. "'s fine."

"No, we can wait a minute," Bones said slowly. "I want you to feel as comfortable as possible while doing this. Is the lack of hair bothering ya?"

"Yes-" Spock stated.

"No-" Jim shot out at the same time. Jim huffed a sigh. "I mean, it's a...a little...chilly."

Demoralizing was more like it, although he was most certainly colder without his hat. But, he had no hair. He was bald. He was going out into the ship for the first time. He had ...fuzz. No, actually, it couldn't even pass as fuzz. Bones told him yesterday that because his system had been impaired, his hair growth had been stunted for three weeks. Jim hadn't taken it well, even with the new promise that Bones had fixed the issue. The very possibility existed that despite the fact they cleared the corridors, someone could see him - and he was bald. He felt the proof with his hand, wincing.

"Ye have nothing to be embarrassed about laddie, awantin' your hair back. 'Tis only natural."

Jim swallowed with difficulty, Mr. Scott's observation hitting the mark.

"Okay, let's find your hat, then," Bones said. "Nurse Chapel?"

"Lieutenant Uhura brought another one in just yesterday because the first one you had the nurse on alpha shift accidentally discarded." Christine said softly. "Here, Mr. Kirk-"

"Jim. Just Jim," he stated, flushing immediately as Chris transferred a warm, knitted cap to his hand.

"Oh," Christine stated, surprised. "Jim, then."

"I'm sorry. I'm not...I shouldn't have said..."

"The captain prefers Jim because Mr. Kirk sounds cold and foreign to him."

"Spock, really. You don't have to keep doing that." Wishing he had already learned the control required to stop projecting his embarrassing thoughts, Jim gave an exasperated sigh and pulled the hat over his head. Only, he couldn't quite get it pulled over the one side. Another pair of hands touched his, ones feminine and soft. Christine, he assumed, when he smelled vanilla for Bones was more of a woodsy, pine scent, with a hint of mint. When Bones' back was turned or the doctor wasn't in sickbay, Christine was always there ready to assist Jim.

"It is imperative that I do so for your benefit."

"So...this is going to be a...a thing?"

"A thing?" Spock echoed.

Jim scratched the bridge of his nose. He really wasn't sure what 'a thing' was, either, and he was the one who said it. "A...a...habit?"

"Indeed," Spock said without apology.

Jim sighed. "I figured as much."

"If you were to speak your mind, I would not be forced to resort to such tactics."

"Speaking my mind is..." Jim rubbed his jaw. "Uncomfortable, Spock. Awkward."

"It never was before," Spock said softly.

Jim frowned, not sure what to think of that statement. His past was incredibly vague and for the first time...

"And here I thought I was the only one who argued with Spock these days," Bones said with amusement. "Here's your cane, Jim. It's the precaution we talked about, especially with your right arm in danger of being injured if you fall or jostle it. Take it with your gloved hand, okay?"

His mood having soured since Spock referred to him as captain, Jim transferred the cane to his better, left hand.

"Jim, you must use your right hand," Bones gently admonished. "It's your dominant hand, in the first place, and if you don't use it in these simpler tasks, it will be even more difficult to rehabilitate as time progresses."

But Jim held the cane fast with the hand he chose, heart thudding loudly in his ears. "I don't want to be someone I'm not, Bones. I don't...I don't want to...to..."

"The captain does not wish to be forced to become who he once was," Spock continued for him. Jim sighed, irritated with the address of captain, but inside he was relieved that Spock had said what he found difficult to share.

"You think all this is to make you what you were?" Bones asked softly. "Without your consent?"

He nodded, clenching his eyes shut until Bones' hands gripped both of his shoulders and he knew the doctor stood directly in front of him.

"Jim, I can understand why you would feel that way. For one, things are still confusing for you, and two, you've experienced a great loss. As your physician and CMO, I have told you before that I have decided that it is best for your health for us to keep some things to ourselves until you're strong enough to handle them. Either way, we want what is best for you. We want you to be able to find your way to your quarters on your own and to feel comfortable on this ship. For the time being, you do belong with us and it's for your safety that we are training you to walk the corridors. It is so you feel a sense of accomplishment that we begin testing you soon to see what tasks you can manage on this ship."

"And...and if I'm...I'm never him?" Jim swallowed uncomfortably, his heart fluttering. As the days passed, his awareness of his surroundings and situation grew little by little. His awareness of his friends had, as well, and for now he had come to a decision: it was too difficult to dwell on who he had been. Dwelling on the present was easiest, and it didn't make sense for him to try to find someone that could never be. He didn't really have a choice in the matter but he didn't want them to work so hard to find the old him - he was terrified that person was too damaged to be found and they would be devastated to learn that in the end. He wanted to keep them from getting hurt, most of all.

"The Jim you are now? I like ya just as much as the old Jim, especially with this hat you're wearing," Bones said fondly, tugging at the sides of the knitted hat until the ends covered the top of Jim's ears. His hands were warm, and Jim soaked up his touch. "Who cares about being bald! The hat brings out your eyes, kid. Spock likes ya just as much, too. I know you know that, and it's just your insecurities talkin' right now. And that's okay. We will take this a day at a time, buddy."

As if to reiterate the doctor's words, feelings of acceptance and friendship washed over him. Jim tilted his head towards Spock, momentarily speechless by the sheer propensity of emotions that Spock used to try to calm him. It was working, and so was Bones' unconditional love and compassion. In seconds, his shoulders relaxed and his mind became more malleable to the upcoming task.

"Are you ready to lead the way to your quarters?" Bones paused. Jim nodded slowly. As he had expected, Bones took the cane from Jim's left hand and gently prodded his gloved hand to open and placed the cane within his palm. "I know you don't want to be pushed right now, but it's important you try a little harder, Jim. I'll be right beside you, monitoring your progress. If I see that you really can't manage, I'll step in, alright?"

Jim gritted his teeth but decided that he would do anything for Bones, even this. He took a deep breath. He really had no choice but to begin. He walked with as normal gait as possible, listening to the prompts concerning walls and turns that were only audible to him as he used the cane to ground himself.

But as he walked in the vacated corridor, his two best friends beside him and a loyal Scotsman behind him, he was unable to shake the idea which had come to him earlier. He finally allowed himself to reflect on those thoughts that he'd hastily brushed aside earlier - and attempted to hide them from Spock for he would rather die than give them false hope.

He was now curious to know what it would be like to be that person, that man they so desired that he become again. Even though he wasn't their captain as they remembered, and he wasn't even sure who that man really was, their love remained. He didn't understand it. He wondered if they really did feel the same about the new him as they did the old him, and his heart beat faster the harder he focused on the idea. He realized that no matter how hard he tried to unravel their affection, it remained steadfast.

One thing was certain - they were his closest friends, both then and now, and they deserved the best. But the only best he knew how to be right now was this...being this new Jim.

He had a sinking feeling that it wouldn't always be enough.

* * *

 

McCoy observed the man lingering in the doorway of the captain's quarters with a sense of pride. Thinking of the engineer and his key part in Jim's progress, McCoy turned his head and nodded his thanks to Scott. He received a wide smile in return. Spock nodded stiffly. His response was somewhat delayed, giving McCoy pause. Jim had managed to navigate the entire way to his quarters without any assistance except for the device and the one time McCoy caught him by the elbow when he stumbled. It should have been enough to put smiles on all three of their faces, but Scott's enthusiastic beaming would suffice.

"You alright?" McCoy asked when Jim still made no move to enter.

"Yes. Where would you like me to begin?"

Although the Re'an part of Jim broke through, McCoy knew better. His friend stood straight with his cane primed to go as he was told, but his sightless eyes revealed a fresh weariness from expending more energy than he had in over three weeks.

"I'd like you to go around your sitting area, Jim, beginning on the right." McCoy grasped Jim's arm. "But first, I think you should sit and take a breather."

It wasn't the first time McCoy helped Jim to a chair but the device had already alerted Jim the location of the chair. Jim's head turned in the right direction. He walked over and when his cane touched the chair, Jim's hand groped along the edge. McCoy held his elbow to steady him.

Jim paused. "I can do this part on my own, Bones."

Hearing an edge to his voice that hadn't been there earlier, McCoy withdrew his hand. "Sure, Jim." McCoy said, shocked at the unsettledness in his stomach. He had to squelch his anxiety now before Jim picked up on it. At times he hardened himself too much around his patients, and presently, he couldn't do so if he tried. This was Jim. A different Jim. If there was ever time for a bedside manner, it was now.

Jim lowered himself into the chair, silent as McCoy prepared a glass of water. Spock stood by Jim, and Scott inspected the areas in Jim's quarters that had been recently proofed for their blind captain before heading back to engineering. All potentially harmful corners had been removed or altered a few days ago, and providing Jim with more floor space had dictated a rearrangement or removal of already limited furniture.

Of course, Jim didn't protest, didn't say a single word as McCoy pressed a glass of water he'd added supplements to into his hand. "Drink up."

Jim sipped twice before both his glass and shoulders dropped. He made no move to finish.

"Jim, it's best if you drink it all," McCoy urged softly. "You need all the fluids you can get to keep your health on a steady incline."

Jim obediently lifted his glass to his lips and drank every last drop without protest. McCoy couldn't help but think on the time when his friend would have rolled his eyes or offered some smart remark about McCoy being a mothering hen.

But that wasn't who Jim was now. Although something was obviously on Jim's mind, McCoy waited, hoping he'd speak up without being prompted. After a moment it was clear Jim wasn't going to share. McCoy suggested the next step.

"Are you ready to explore?"

In reply, Jim heaved himself out of the chair, hand poised with the cane.

Before McCoy could move another muscle, Spock was hovering at Jim's side, now his guide and an impeccable one at that. Jim listened to the prompts and brushed his cane against objects, his hand running over every surface. Spock offered explanations as they came to the replicator and various cupboards holding cups and other dishes. McCoy was content to sit back and allow someone else work with Jim. It was a different perspective but one he was quite willing to share with Spock.

After ten minutes of a careful inspection, Jim stopped at last and drew a breath. "This isn't familiar to me."

"It's okay that it isn't, but we want it to become familiar. A spaceship can be unpredictable, Jim, and it's important you're comfortable here. Your quarters should to be a place that feels like home to you, or at the very least, a safe place."

Jim replied with silence, his expression as impassive as that of his first officer's. McCoy didn't exactly know what he'd hoped would happen once Jim reached his quarters but this behavior wasn't what he had expected. Given the circumstances, Jim had been fairly talkative in sickbay before they left. McCoy's heartfelt words seemed to have eased his fears. Spock's presence provided Jim comfort. And now? It was if something simmered just beneath the surface, Jim's quarters appearing to be the very cause. Even Spock's spine had straightened so stiffly that McCoy was worried the Vulcan was going to snap.

McCoy's stomach swirled with unease. Being in his quarters clearly bothered Jim, and Spock had picked up on Jim's emotions. Other than asking Jim what was wrong and pushing for a response that would leave Jim even more upset, there was nothing to do but move on.

The palpable tension thickened the instant Jim stepped into his bedroom.

"Now would be a good time for us to show you how your things are organized in your dresser," McCoy said.

Jim squared his shoulders and began to walk- without his cane.

McCoy stepped back and glanced about the room. "Jim, wait a sec. Where's your-"

It was too late. Without the cane, Jim had shuffled his feet. He tripped, stumbling directly into the dresser. Jim cried out as his right side received the brunt of the fall.

"Jim!" McCoy darted forward.

Expression dazed, Jim stumbled again but strong arms caught him, restraining him just before his head bashed against the dresser. Spock pulled Jim to his feet and wrapped his arms around the stunned captain.

McCoy couldn't reach Jim fast enough. This was just what he feared - Jim injuring his weak arm and hand further. "Let me take a look. If there's more damage done to that arm..."

Wincing and holding his arm protectively, Jim attempted to straighten himself. He pulled away from Spock. He went even further and turned his face away from McCoy.

"Jim, let me see it," McCoy repeated.

"I'm fine." Jim gritted.

"You sure about that, buddy?" McCoy asked in a soft voice.

Jim squeezed his eyes shut, silent as McCoy brought over his tricorder. McCoy scanned his arm and hand, mindful to keep his hands off of the tense captain as much as possible. Spock positioned himself behind Jim, invariably blocking him from any escape or fall.

Soon, McCoy lowered his scanner with relief. "Besides some inevitable bruising there was no additional damage this time, but you have to use these precautions, Jim. That means the cane along with the device."

Jaw clenched, Jim gripped the edge of the dresser with his left hand. His fingers turned white at the knuckles. Now knowing very well that the dresser was there, he stood in front of it with a lift of his chin and an undeniable stiffening of his body. He was like a soldier ready for battle.

And after that incident, maybe he was ready for a fight. Memory loss aside, McCoy couldn't imagine what being blind would be like. Jim had always been independent, apart from his perpetual need for McCoy's medical knowledge and skills. He was now forced to depend upon others as he adjusted to this life, until Spock deemed it safe to break more of the Re'an barrier or it mostly dissolved on its own. At one time, Jim had faced challenges head on, but he had changed. Who knew how well he would adjust. Re'an tendencies prevailed but despite them, Jim was still human and experiencing strong, human emotions. Bitterness towards his condition was natural, and McCoy expected to see it gradually emerge in Jim as the Re'an barrier broke.

"Your things aren't organized as before. They are color coded for your ease." McCoy searched for a sign from his friend that he was willing to be instructed. They were losing ground with him - fast.

Jim swallowed, his gaze to the floor. "I understand, but I don't remember how it was before, anyways."

Not certain if he imagined the hint of bitterness in Jim's tone, McCoy softened his voice. "Alright, Jim. We labeled your dresser drawers with the Braille system until you get used to things. Even found a couple books a crewmember had that you may like to read. Uhura will go over Braille with you when she-"

Jim blinked. "I already know how to read Braille."

"You do?" Considering the languages Jim knew, McCoy shouldn't have been surprised.

Jim's brow creased. "Well, I think I do. There was a ship headed for the base where...where my mom was stationed? I may have been fourteen?"

"You were fifteen years old, Jim," Spock quietly interjected

"I guess I saw my chance when I heard that a group of blind children were going the same direction. I faked some records and enrolled in the school. It wasn't for long...maybe only for a few weeks?"

"You pretended to be blind so you could galavant across the galaxy to visit your mother." McCoy almost didn't believe it.

That was after Tarsus, and Jim had never once mentioned this hitchhike through space. In fact, although Jim's relationship with his mother was better now and they communicated on a monthly basis, Jim had harbored great resentment towards his mother as a young teen, especially at the age of fifteen. Why, then, had Jim gone to such lengths to see her?

Jim's face lost a little bit of its color. "It was a few months of warmth and food without Frank," he said, as if he'd read McCoy's mind. That simple explanation revealed everything McCoy needed to know. Live with Frank? Or pretend to be blind to avoid living with an abusive step-father.

"Did you get to see your mom?"

"Never made it to the base. Ship got attacked by pirates and I got hauled off by the back of my neck like the scrawny, helpless puppy I was. I did escape them eventually but ended up far from Earth in the process." Jim exhaled a long breath. "That's all I remember. Nothing is really clear before that event and nothing after until the weirdness of being at the Academy with a guy who threw up on me on the shuttle ride there. Can we finish going over where my shirts are? And pants? And...whatever else is in here? I'm damn tired, Bones, and if you want me to do some testing I think I need to shut my eyes for a little bit before Chekov comes."

Halfway through Jim's monologue, Spock's brows raised to his hairline. McCoy brought a fist to his mouth, suppressing a sob that he belatedly tried to pass off as a chuckle. There was a little of the old Jim, a month missing. He had to see it to believe it himself. Spock did say to expect these glimpses of their captain from time to time, but not to read into them more than what they were- rare and precious peeks of his former self. Jim volunteering the information about his past and memories of his own accord was crucial. More could wait, especially after what Jim had accomplished just this morning. They must be patient.

"Yeah, Jim. We can."

*********previously on Re'an V***********

 

After firing at two Re'an renegades and promptly stunning them, Jim fell behind Spock in the twisted, flaming garden. They'd retrieved all the children and secured them with four security officers and Uhura. Now, Spock, Jim, and a team of limited security searched for the remaining renegades too stubborn to take the clear route that had been created for them. Something moved in the corner of his eye. He turned and aimed for the departing female warrior on their left. Something about her perplexed him but Jim couldn't afford to hesitate. Now that her arms were free from carrying a Re'an child, she ran faster than she had before. He fired just as she charged forward  - and missed.

"Dammit," he growled and tore off his mask.

"Captain, I do not believe that is wise."

"I can't see worth a damn, Spock." Jim whipped his head around, looking for the Re'an warrior. He opened his mouth to request the assistance of one security officer but the scent of snake wafted his way.

Jim's eyes widened. She was closer than he had first thought. He inhaled deeply, allowing the scent to seep into his mind and into his lungs when he spotted the blue-skinned alien dashing across a smokeless area. "Spock, I'll follow this one. Keep up with the others. That's an order!"

Jim tore off, having no time to explain to Spock what he was doing. Spock wouldn't be able to refuse since their numbers were low. He had second thoughts about an accompanying officer - that would only slow him down. When he realized Spock had, indeed, ordered a security officer to follow him, Jim dashed into a cluster of fruit trees and through a series of crooked paths, losing both the officer and alien. 

"Dammit," he whispered. There was something about this Re'an female that nagged at him. After a moment, he cautiously peered out and finding no one around, emerged.  Oddly, the warrior he'd been trailing earlier suddenly appeared upon the same path. He began to run, his breaths growing heavier with each passing second. The creatures' scent pulled him to her and now that he picked it up once more, there was no other course for him but to follow the tantalizing trail. Although he couldn't make out her distinct features, she was different from the other Re'an. He thought it could be her size -  it didn't make much sense. Neither did the fact that he'd witness her depositing one child away from the ensuing fight. Was she one of the renegades or not? He decided to follow his instincts and race ahead, never mind that he clearly felt the pull of the creatures.

A blow to his shoulders knocked him forward to his knees and his phaser straight out of his hand. He groaned, shaking his head to clear his vision.

_"R'alk! te fwi'se!"_

Jim staggered to his feet as he heard the war cry and whipped his head around to see eyes full of hatred. It was Man'en, the prince's cousin. The head warrior hissed at Jim and in one deliberate, smooth movement unsheathed a curved blade from his belt.

Man'en stood larger than life, his shoulders broad and his arms extended as he charged forward. Jim backed up as much as he could but rammed into the tree behind him. The warrior made a single sweep with his weapon. Jim sucked in his chest and dropped sideways, rolling away but not before he felt the blade slide across his torso. He cried out, dirt filling his mouth as he rolled. Tears flooded his eyes as the stinging of his stomach became unbearable. He stopped briefly, panting and spitting out as much of the bitter particles as he could before they choked him. He didn't think Man'en had sliced him too deeply, but he couldn't pause to find out.

Desperate for a weapon, Jim reached for anything that had fallen onto the ground below the tree. Nothing. There was nothing but dirt. But it was the Re'an's bitter dirt, nasty in the mouth as he knew, but possibly the same in the eyes. It could be a secret weapon if used correctly. Jim grimaced and tore at the ground with his fingers. He fisted as much as he could into his hand and when he sensed the enraged warrior looming above him, Jim tossed the handful of clumped Re'an ground into the air. He rolled away again, clutching at his bleeding wound. Man'en cried out, forced to abandon his fight as the particles entered his eyes like fiery red ants.

The distraction bought Jim five seconds. He saw his phaser and dove, but fell short. Cursing, he crawled, not knowing if his torso was truly being ripped in two or if the pain was merely amplified by the desperation of the situation. Jim propelled himself forward by digging his fingers once more into Re'an dirt. His body jerked backwards. As the fresh wound met with friction, the fire in his stomach swelled.

"No," Jim growled through the pain and twisted to kick at the hand that had a deadlock on his boot. His attempts were useless against the Re'an strength, and Man'en dragged him face down through the unrelenting, harsh ground as if he were weightless. The dirt darkened his vision, his eyes smarting from the painful, foreign particles just as the warrior's eyes appeared to have done. Dust swirled, and Jim choked. He twisted away, a wave of pain nearly stopping him. His breath caught when something else did stop him.

Man'en held his blade at Jim's throat.

"Today, human, you have lost," the warrior hissed.

Jim blinked away some of the grit from his eyes. Death, again, so soon? There was always that chance, and here he was. So soon. Again, and like before, he had nothing up his sleeve to save himself. It had been foolish of him to leave Spock, but...he couldn't explain what had happened. His mind had attached itself to the snakes, as it had at the first time he'd held the creatures, but it had worsened. Following was all he could do - but it wasn't right. The snakes' connection with Jim from the beginning had been strong, and now it affected him until he had lost all sense. He had to tell Bones and Spock, but it was too late.

"Then do it. Now. While you steal away with innocent children," Jim challenged with fading breath.

Man'en grinned wildly and pressed the blade deeper against Jim's neck. Jim clenched his jaw, steeling himself before the alien's blade sliced him, but the bare flesh of his neck merely stung. A shallow cut? Jim sucked in a breath. What game was he playing at? Strangely enough, the warrior laughed, confusing Jim even more. Man'en withdrew the blade from Jim's neck and pulled out a dart blower instead- and crumpled to the ground. Man'en's weapon dropped harmlessly upon his chest. Jim widened his eyes in disbelief at the alien slumped beside him.

"Captain Kirk, you're injured," a voice murmured above him.

It was the very Re'an he'd been trailing, her hands pressing on his chest. Confused, he tried to lift himself up and away from her touch, halting when the creatures' scent hit him with great force. 

"Lie still." She ordered, hands peeling back his bloodied shirt. He obeyed, but only because the scent of the creatures was even stronger now that she was so near. "I do not believe the blade cut too deeply but you are losing blood."

"You shot him." He murmured, attempting a guess in his sluggishness at what she'd done. A dart protruded from Man'en's neck.

"Yes. He sleeps from the dart's poison." Her eyes sorrowed. "I did not wish for you to be harmed for following me. They wanted you to follow me but...your capture would have been on my hands. You followed because you knew I was different and you smelled the snakes. You do not think with your right mind, captain, but it is not your fault. It is the connection you have with the creatures and their very scent which is capable of twisting even the strongest mind."

Hearing voices approaching, he rolled his head to the right.

"They are coming but I must warn you."

"Why?" He blinked to clear his vision. He saw her eyes. Her forehead..."You...you're not..."

"Re'an?" She shook her head. "No."

"You're human." Jim's mind raced with the implications. "Why are you here? Who are you?"

"I'm Soona," She leaned in, whispering. "I'm here to warn you. I think they need you, Captain Kirk."

"No," he grasped her hand weakly and lifted his head. "Why are you here, with them?" He panted.

She pursed her lips and took his hand and pressed it against his stomach. He winced but she looked firmly at him. "I must go. Do not lift your hand. I should have stopped him sooner but I didn't want to accidentally hit you with the dart. Be careful, Captain. Do not think that all is well with Lequa...with the snakes. I do not know exactly what Man'en and Lequa wanted you for, but they do."

_"Jim!"_

The voice now closer, Jim breathed a sigh of relief. Bones and Spock would find him soon.

She jolted to her feet and grasped the dart from Man'en's neck with a hand stained by Jim's blood. "Your doctor and first officer are approaching. And more Re'an, perhaps. I must go..."

"No! Wait...Soona..." Jim stared at her, thoughts churning in every direction. The snakes and their power - they had twisted his thinking. But the image on the symbol, the hands on the mind...mind...meld...snakes...Jim shook the thoughts away for now. He had more important things to consider - like saving Soona. "Do you want to leave?"

"Yes." She breathed sharply at her confession, averting her face. 

"It's okay," he assured her. "I see the fear in your eyes. We can help you."

"I must go. If anyone sees me speaking with you...If they see what I have done to Man'en...you must say you did it."

"Do you want...to leave?" He forced out a slow breath, doubting Soona wanted any part in the kidnapping of Lequa's children. If she had, indeed, saved him from Man'en's capture, her life could also be in danger. But there was more to it than that."You're here against you're will, aren't you?"

"They stole me when I was a child," she whispered. "Yes. I do want to leave. Will you help me? Now that I've helped you? I must...I must hide...I...send someone to the west corner of the garden in a few hours. To talk."

"Yes, Soona, we'll help you. Someone...will be there." Jim offered a weak smile, consciousness ebbing. Hearing his friends' voices, Jim relaxed into the dust, eyes on the black, curling vines of the Re'an garden that cascaded above him, giving the illusion they were falling from the sky. The dark vines reached for him with their formidable strength, obstructing his view as darkness encroached. Jim shivered at the sight and all went black.

 

*********** end scene **********

 

Chekov chattered, giving additional instructions as Jim tried to recall where exactly Bones had placed the glass of juice on the table. The doctor had trotted off to Jim's bedroom to comm Christine a few minutes ago, and Chekov now prepared Jim for a second set of tests and exercises. Their purpose almost amused Jim. He didn't recall much of anything about the departments on the Enterprise, of course. He was going through the motions, anyways, despite the fact that his brain felt as heavy as his eyes. For his friends, he repeated to himself. Learning where everything was in his quarters had drained him, and he felt a twinge of self-consciousness when Bones had to take the time to show him where every little thing was, right down to his boxers. He was also embarrassed for tripping over his own feet and falling into a piece of furniture he knew had been there. They said this was where he was to feel comfortable. Safe. Jim didn't feel comfortable, and other than when Spock specifically filled his mind with his presence, he wasn't certain he felt safe. He was in the dark - always. How could he feel safe?

All of these feelings went against what he thought would gain the Re'an's approval, but the Re'an weren't here. They were gone. He was supposed to fit here, on the Enterprise, but how could he do that when he couldn't even "fit" in his own quarters. Jim sighed. He wasn't sure he could tell Bones and Spock that he was honestly a little frightened. They would want to know why, and Jim didn't want to tell anyone why.

Only half-listening to the young man beside him, Jim carefully placed his left hand on the table, hoping he could find his glass without calling attention to himself.

"Here, sir." Chekov placed a data PADD at his fingertips. "Ze program is veady ..."

The 'sir' threw him as much as the 'captain' did from Spock and forgetting he'd been looking for his juice, Jim reached for the button on the PADD. His hand bumped against something hard, knocking it over with a clang.

"Shit," Jim whispered as his hand found the mess on the table. In seconds, his shirt and pants clung to his skin. He shifted his thighs, wanting to move out of the way from the juice oozing off the table but Chekov placed his hand on Jim's shoulder.

"Sir, hold still. I vill take care of this."

Mortified, Jim could only sit as Chekov scurried to get a towel to mop up the result of his carelessness. He froze when he heard Bones come up behind him.

"Let's get you cleaned up, Jim."

Jim's eyes stung. He didn't need 'cleaned up.' A kid needed cleaned up. A dog did, or a trained monkey. He wasn't any of those things. All Jim needed was to be left alone, but Bones didn't hear his silent command and neither did Spock, wherever he was. Jim hadn't heard even a murmur from Spock, which confused him. Jim didn't want his thoughts broadcasting as they had before on their own. Maybe he was working too hard at reversing that. Maybe that was why he was so damn tired.

The doctor took off Jim's glove and with a damp cloth and great care, wiped the remainder of the juice from his hands. Giving Bones nothing but silence and then a stiff arm to hold on to, Jim allowed himself to be pulled up out of his seat and led to the bedroom. The quicker he acquiesced, the sooner this was all behind him.

"It's alright, buddy," Bones said once Jim stood in his room. "I'll let you do this on your own, if that's what you want?"

Bones had read him well. Jim tightened his grip on the cane. "If that's okay."

"It is, as long as you're..." Bones paused mid-sentence. Jim gritted his teeth, knowing what word was missing. _Careful_. "You have to use that cane, Jim."

"I will."

"Do you remember where everything is?"

"Yes." How could he not? It was all done for him with painstaking care.

"I'll be right outside, then."

Once the door had closed and he was alone, he took deliberate, slow steps. After he reached the dresser Jim wearily fingered the markings along his drawers, fumbling over the dots more than anything. He was half-tempted to plop down right on the floor in protest and sleep. Sighing, he knew that he couldn't. Bones wanted him to work a little longer. Besides, he had already taken a nap before Chekov even arrived. Resigned, Jim finally pushed the button which opened the drawer holding his civilian clothing, all placed in their particular spots for his convenience. He peeled off his wet shirt with great effort and let it fall from his grasp and land by his feet. He rested his hand on a pile of black shirts, thinking on this arrangement. He hardly cared what color of shirt he wore, let alone how they were organized.

Jim bunched the first shirt in his hands. He thought of the control he didn't have at the present time and after running his fingers over the dots, shoved the black shirt into the pile of blue shirts next to it. Adrenaline surged through his body. Heart beating wildly, he imagined the control he might have once had as captain or as just plain Jim Kirk, a man who could see, and dropped an entire pile of clothing on the floor.

It fell with a light but satisfying thud.

* * *

 

More than five minutes had passed since Jim went into his room to change. McCoy rose to his feet, anxious to see if Jim had managed on his own. He had several things to tend to in sickbay but if his hunch was right and Jim was unsettled in his quarters, he would delegate those things in a heartbeat. He would also comm Spock. Jim didn't just need the presence of his attending physician.

"Is ze Keptin alright?"

"I hope so, Chekov." McCoy made his way to Jim's bedroom. "But, he should be done alread-"

The door slid open. McCoy's heart constricted when he saw firsthand the product of his best friend's bottled up emotions. An assortment of once folded clothing lay scattered or bunched in new piles on the floor, and one Jim Kirk lay, sprawled face down on his bed, arms spread wide and wearing a peculiar pairing of pants and shirt, sleeping.

McCoy sighed. "Oh, Jimmy."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R'alk! te fwi'se! = My enemy! Rise and fight!
> 
> Being that the second scene of this chapter was originally placed elsewhere, its last sentence may have lost its punch. But as I bring it to your attention now, it may regain some of that foreboding flavor...
> 
> Also, as you now know, the kidnapping occurred a little ahead of schedule when compared to the other timeline. More on the appropriate timeline to come, at some later date and in a rather important but trying chapter for Jim. 
> 
> Next up - oh yes. We will witness the aftermath of Jim's actions and see how he and his friends deal with both that AND whatever else Jim is thinking. It's angsty all around for several reasons, *perhaps* the Jim/Bones argument being one of them. It's also a chapter I've attempted now THREE times so hopefully this time around, even though it's much angstier than even I expected, I did it right.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I forewarned, the angst level is a little higher than usual in this chapter, compounded by several factors. There will be unique growth for Jim in the midst of the hurt, and I utilize an unlikely character for a scene or two to aid with that. That character is unlikely for this particular verse because I am not pairing Jim with anyone.  
>  
> 
> There may be another peak into Re'an V. Only one more scene of this nature will be included after this - there will be other ways to find out the truth. I like to include these scenes so you can draw parallels with the scenes around them. It is my intention to add depth to the story this way. Also, several times I have foreshadowed various events. I wonder if anyone caught one of those foreshadowings in chapter two, via Jim's thoughts in regards to his future condition. :(
> 
>  
> 
> I'd love to hear from you about the story! Thank you!

Jim awoke with dread swirling in his stomach and the name of his best friend churning unsavorily right along with it. At the time, the process of dumping his clothes out of the dresser had been freeing. Now, he felt like a child about to be reprimanded, and he feared removing himself from the haven he called his bed. Jim took too long to change and then he intentionally fell asleep instead of returning to his living space and working with Chekov. Bones always checked up on him. He had to have seen what Jim had done. What was Bones going to say to him? All that work, and Jim dumped it out on the floor. He disobeyed their orders to work with Chekov. Jim was in trouble, and he half-expected Bones to storm in here, angry as he had been before with Jim in sick-

_You're going to crash into a wall and I'm not going to be there to help y-_

Jim lurched up, his heart in his throat, and the words shattered, breaking into millions of shards. They coursed down his body, some merely scratching his exposed skin, others ripping him to shreds. More pieces appeared out of nowhere and rammed into his head like spikes, striking Jim in his most vulnerable places repeatedly.

He whimpered and filled with a brutal fear of his friend. No, no, no. He clutched at his hat, pulling it down as far as he could over his face and pulled his knees to his chest, rocking himself back and forth. No. Not Bones. No. Not Bones. Not Bones. Bones didn't talk to him like that anymore. Where was the Bones of last week? This week? Of...of yesterday? Jim's breath caught painfully in his chest, as if hot metal curled around his rib cage - he could not find the friend who had held him in the bath to protect him. Or brought him tea to comfort him. Or made sure he had his hat so he wasn't embarrassed. Bones wasn't anywhere to be found but his cruel words echoed, loud and clear, digging into his consciousness. The doctor's voice boomed until it was all that Jim heard.

The words crippled him. His fear paralyzed him. He was helpless. The Bones who was his friend - was gone.

A raw, desperate cry formed deep inside Jim. It burrowed at first, its edges scraping his chest, the pain worse than the pieces cascading over him. Within seconds, Jim's cry erupted without warning as a powerful burst, nothing about it pleasant or merciful. Jim buried his face into the tops of his thighs to muffle his wail. His wet cheeks soaking his pants, his shoulders shook and his heart rendered in two, bleeding out. No. Not Bones. No. His wail intensified, marked by the grief of losing his friend. Jim tugged his hat down further, trying to sink down into the mattress as Bones' harsh voice approached at warp speed. No, not Bones. Please, he begged. Not Bones. No. No. Please...

Just as suddenly as he had heard his best friend's taunting voice, it disappeared. All was silent in the room, the lack of noise only broken by warbling echoes now too distant to hurt him and his own stuttered wailing coming to an end once he realized what just happened.

Jim dropped his trembling hands, momentarily shocked by the abrupt change. Hands fumbling, he clutched at his blankets in his inherent need to hold onto something. Anything. He had sensed something strong from Spock, something so strong it scared him but at the same time, it seemed to scare away the very things which frightened Jim - the millions of pieces that had once been Bones' words vanished, leaving only shadowy imprints Jim could not decipher.

Still shaken, Jim wrapped his hands around his knees again, gripping his legs until they screamed under the pressure of his fingers, sure to leave marks. Falling back onto what seem to have comforted him before, he rocked his body back and forth slowly as he waited for the distant memory of cruel words and turbulent emotions to pass completely. Jim blinked furiously in the darkness. Part of him still feared that Spock had missed the shattered pieces. The Vulcan had to find them. Spock had to find those words again before they inflicted more pain upon Jim's heart, more than he could possibly bear.

Spock did not fail him. The strong sensations from Spock continued, and as they grew, Jim's panic and insecurity ebbed, finally fading.

Breathing slowly through his nose, Jim unlocked his hands around his legs and scooted until he found a seat on the edge of the bed. Eyes wet and body quaking, he breathed deeply and waited for the moment to pass. His fear was gone and in place of it, a feeling he couldn't name but latched on to as if his life depended upon it.

 _Resolve_ , came the barest of whispers from Spock.

Jim rubbed his face. Did 'resolve' mean he could do this? He could face Bones? Jim sucked in a deep breath, contemplating his situation as he waited for his body to stop its quaking. Jim wasn't sure facing Bones well about this was possible, but he did have a small problem of his own to fix. He didn't know where Bones was, and Jim hoped he didn't check on him quite yet. Jim had to fix this...this other problem. He hadn't changed into something altogether comfortable but instead, had chosen his attire in the throes of rebellion.

First was a pair of old and worn sweatpants that he had slipped on that were too large for his frame. Perhaps they had fit the old him. Clearly, as they sagged down his hips, they were not a pair he should ever wear beyond his bedroom. Not even pulling the strings together made a difference. The thin, worn fabric made his legs cold now that he was out from under the covers. Then was the issue of the multi-colored shirt he thought he'd borrowed from Spock for some strange party Uhura threw - but never returned. The combination was bound to be atrocious, not that he cared. Actually, he did care. He had put on the outfit to make a point, but what point exactly, he did not, at the present time, recall.

Jim stood and adjusted the tiny speaker in his ear as the program told him just exactly where his piles of madness were to avoid tripping over them. Since he didn't recall what shirts he had put in those piles, he had even less of a chance picking out a flattering color combination now, not that it mattered to him. He wouldn't be able to see it. He wasn't captain. He...he was the worst friend to have done what he did.

Jim stood by those piles for a moment, weighted down by indecision and debating what he would do next. He could comb through the mess, but he was sure he would only become more frustrated when he couldn't find what he wanted - a black shirt. Black seemed good, it sounded good to him, and he had no idea where to find the shirt. He had no idea why he had put himself in this mess, risking Bones' wrath. Tears pricked his eyes as he stood like a fool. The indecision soured in his stomach. The other option would be to seek out his best friend and offer an apology.

Or, Jim held his breath as the idea came to him, he could comm Uhura. Uhura would help him. She would...

Jim rammed his hands into the pockets of his sagging sweatpants, shoulders hunched. He'd comm Uhura if he had a comm. He didn't, and the computer denied him access other than contacting sickbay or asking for the time. And he felt even more foolish having to go through Spock. The limited ability to acquire information hadn't bothered him before, and it still didn't. In fact, it made him feel warm and protected to be kept in a world that he could somewhat wrap his mind around. That was, until he had arrived here, in his very quarters. It had all changed again and Jim did not know how to deal with it. He exhaled through his nose, feeling like a failure of a friend, as a person in general, and his hands bunched into fists inside his pockets. Once again, he had no control over anything in his life. A tear slipped down his cheek, then another.

If he didn't know how to deal with this, even if miraculously he did regain his sight, how could he ever be a fucking captain again? It confirmed his decision to be himself and focus on the present, but...the truth was, he didn't know how to deal with anything, beginning with the very fact that he was blind. As soon as he had stepped into his quarters, he felt the condemning nature of his condition clear to the core of his soul.

"Jim?" A distinctly accented, feminine voice carried through his bedroom door. Jim blinked, his thoughts stalling. "Mr. Spock commed me, requesting I come help you now that you are awake. He just left, and Nyota will be here shortly."

 _Carol_.

Spock had been here? Yet other than sensing his presence in Jim's mind, he'd left Jim alone.

Jim didn't know what to think of that.

"Jim? Are you alright?"

Jim hastily wiped his eyes and nose and checked the status of his hat. It was on his head, offering the confidence he needed to be polite to this woman he barely remembered, a crew member of the old him. He pulled the ties to his sweatpants as tightly as possible and pulled them up a little one last time. "Come...come in..." The words, spoken in a quiet voice that cracked once or twice, managed to open the door for the science officer.

"I wasn't sure what I would be helping you with," Carol said, hesitating as she no doubt took in the state of his floor as well as his wet cheeks and sloppy, mismatched attire, "but now that I do know, I think we'll first begin with...a cup of tea."

He wasn't in a position to say no and tea sounded good. Besides, she had the upperhand, especially as she posed the question, "Will you escort me to your table, Jim?"

He blinked, unsure he heard her correctly. What was she asking him to do? It sounded...foreign.

"Jim?"

"M...my table?" _Spock? What does she mean, escort?_

"Of course," Carol said sweetly.

"Yes." Jim cleared his throat, Spock answering him just in time. Feeling quite out of his element, although he had no idea how he knew that phrase or what exactly it meant, Jim took her lead. She tucked her hand around the crook of his arm. He bent his arm, her hand warm at his elbow. Jim's heart began to pound at this sudden strange task. Even so, Jim listened to his prompts and held his cane with his other hand. While they walked, Carol chattered, oddly putting him at ease with the lyrical quality of her voice.

 

* * *

 

 

Spock strode to the transporter room, his captain crowding his thoughts and taking precedent over the mission. For now, Jim was safe. Jim's mind was safe.

"Spock." McCoy nodded, already waiting on the platform.

Nyota's worry increasing, Spock sent affectionate thoughts in return to calm her. His own state of health was acceptable. Most of all, their captain was no longer plagued by false memories for the time being and Spock had made an important discovery.

Spock stepped up to the platform, brow raised as he acknowledged the doctor in return. He opened his mouth to speak but found he could not force out a single sound. Darkness encroached, and a panic for Jim swelled. Spock was the only one to prevent the Re'an barrier from taking over Jim's mind. He was the only one who could help Jim continue to function at this level without degrading.

The room shifted, McCoy's worried face growing unnaturally dark. As voices cried out and hands reached to assist him, Spock collapsed to the floor with a thud.

 

********** previously on Re'an V **********

 

"Where the hell have ya been?" McCoy hissed. Not waiting for an answer, McCoy grabbed Jim by the arm and yanked him from the corridor, leaving their security outside. He pulled him into the room the Re'an had provided for them near the banquet hall, wishing there was a door so he could slam it shut in his frustration. "Dammit, man! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Jim leaned into the doctor, catching his breath. "I know, I know. I swear I didn't mean to worry you, but Princess Eoksa had a snake with her-"

"Dammit, Jim." McCoy's stomach clenched as he held him steady. "The Medusa lured ya."

As he nodded, Jim's eyes filled with something McCoy hadn't seen from him in a long time - unadulterated fear. "I couldn't help it. I went and almost stepped inside, but security found me before I made that mistake and thankfully had a well-played excuse to escort me away. Remind me when we return to the Enterprise to ask Uhura to give Giotto as many comm credits as he wants for the rest of the month. The year, even. I'm sorry, Bones. I-"

McCoy grasped his shoulders, looking at him straight in the eyes. "Jim, don't apologize. Alright? You know you couldn't stop the creatures' influence. I don't know how she separated us, but ya aren't leaving my side. We're joined at the hip. You got it?"

"I know." Jim sighed. "But...Bones, the damn creatures weren't in that room. They're gone, Bones. Gone."

"What do you mean the creatures were gone?" McCoy threw Jim a baffled look. "You don't really mean that, do you?"

Jim sighed again. "That doesn't help matters, Bones, saying that I'm crazy."

"I'm not saying you're crazy, I'm...suggesting that your facts could be messed up."

"You don't believe me," Jim's shoulders sagged. "I get it. But, help me out here, Bones. If I'm right and those animals were indeed gone and Princess Eoksa affirmed that it's been like that for months...then...maybe the situation isn't as bad as it appears - because I'm crazy. Or going crazy. Slowly."

"No, Jim, you're not-"

McCoy felt the full force of Jim's glare as he was stopped mid-sentence by his captain's adamant words. "Bones, I could be. You know how Tarsus messes with my brain, and on top of all of this."

"Yes, but-"

"I need to talk to Spock, but not about that yet," Jim added swiftly. "Maybe he can shed some light on this."

"Jim," McCoy grabbed him by the arm and pulled him closer, voice hushed. "You're not going to be able to explain this correctly without telling him the whole story. And, anyways, about Spock...and the other thing..."

Color drained from Jim's face. "He knows, doesn't he? How does he know? That's impossible. He couldn't have even dug through my records for that information. He can't know. Bones-"

"Will you calm down?" McCoy hissed. "Remember when you came to sickbay with the reaction? The bed next to yours was taken and the curtain was drawn around it."

Jim groaned and hit his head against the wall. "He heard everything we discussed, didn't he? Great. Just great. He's known this whole time. Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not like there's been enough time to talk about it lately. Things have been crazier than usual, even before that day: the kidnapping, your abdominal injury, and then just days after that you were recovering from the allergic reaction, planning this..."

"Right," Jim grimaced. He hit his head against the wall a second time. "I guess it makes it easier for me and you knew that it would. But...I can't believe this. He's known and I haven't known and for days he's known and I haven't and he knew that I didn't know and-"

Jim's head met with the wall even harder the third time.

"Stop doing that, ya moron." McCoy scowled and pulled him away from the wall. He trusted Jim but this reaction clearly indicated that Eoksa and the snake had affected his focus and it was McCoy's duty to ensure that Jim had his head in the game completely - or he would return him to the Enterprise immediately. "You don't need a head injury on top of everything else going on. Pull yourself together, Jim. We have Soona to think about. It's going to be fine, Jim, trust me. He took it well-"

"The captain has a head injury?"

Both men whipped around at the commander's voice.

"No," McCoy said, recovering first. "He does not but...I was worried that he had."

"I see," Spock said, his eyes sweeping from McCoy then to Jim, clearly having heard more than Jim may have wanted him to once again. "Captain, the banquet begins in thirteen point one minutes, and our time before the intended extraction is drawing to a close. Could I have a word with you?"

"Yes, Spock." Jim cleared his throat and tugged at his uniform. "I imagine you are to ask me where I disappeared to? And why?"

"You are correct, captain."

Jim's eyes pierced the commander. "Then, let me make this as simple as possible. Spock, as you know I heard creatures in the Re'an's sacred room and I've felt their pull since day one. You know how they influence me but somehow during the rescue, I managed to avoid directing us through the room and into the garden through a back way in order to protect our crew. Today, Princess Eoksa showed me the sacred room for herself." Jim drew a deep breath. "Only...it was empty, Spock. And worse, the princess assured me it has been empty for months. This means that either I really am insane or they are lying to us about even more and we need to find out why."

Spock regarded him carefully before turning to McCoy. "Is the captain delusional, doctor?"

McCoy hesitated as Jim's shoulders dropped. "We were just debating that, Spock."

"There's a chance," Jim murmured, rubbing a hand over his face. "Bones, do you remember what I told you if I go crazy or can't take care of myself?"

"Sure I do." McCoy huffed a breath. "And do you remember what I told you? Of course I'll make decisions for you, but if you think I'm going to send you to the closest Star Base or see you admitted to a Starfleet hospital without me as your attending physician, you really are outta your goddamned mind."

Jim sighed. McCoy saw it in his eyes before he spoke - he was going to bring up Tarsus, as he must. "There's a chance, and you both know why."

"You speak of Tarsus IV, Captain."

"Yes." Jim held his breath, awaiting his friends' answers.

"Although I don't think it's affected you as much as you think it has, Jim, it is within the realm of possibility." McCoy hesitated. "But from what we know about the Re'an, this could also be another complete set up."

"That the allergic reaction and reminder of this tragic event in your life have triggered delusions is a possibility," Spock said simply. "But the probability that the Re'an are lying is sixty-two point three percent greater."

Jim looked at Spock, expression slack with disbelief. "You...you're say...saying that you believe me?"

"Indeed, captain. It appears that the doctor and I have exceeded our own odds and we both concur."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "See, pal? I told ya not to worry. We have your back."

Jim continued to stare at them both. "I...am relieved. And surprised, because...wow...."

A rare frown passed over Spock's face. "It is not safe for you to be here, Jim."

"I don't disagree with you there, Spock, but it's not safe for anyone of us. We must proceed as planned - quietly and as unassuming as possible. If we rush out of here, we risk provoking their suspicion. The remaining few archaeologists were beamed back to the Enterprise one hour ago, but we can't forgo the banquet. We don't know how they could retaliate being that they have hidden their advancements from the Federation, and we know by their actions they are not interested in negotiating. We must proceed now. Spock, as planned, as soon as the banquet is over, security and I will distract the guards. Soona knows to find you and she has the phaser we gave her as a precaution."

"Jim, if, indeed, they are lying, the likelihood they are purposefully attempting to disarm you by inducing confusion and panic is also quite high. It is also probable that Princess Eoksa planned this deceptive act to regain your trust. You must pay heed to this."

"We can't change our plans, Spock. Not over this, alright? I'll be fine. Besides, Bones will be with me," Jim's firm answer garnered McCoy's and Spock's respect. They understood his dilemma and subsequent decision. Between the three of them and the crew of the Enterprise, their mission would succeed. With McCoy and Spock both watching the captain's back and Jim's painstaking care planning Soona's extraction, what possibly could happen? "I'll alert Scotty before Lequa even notices that Soona is gone. Well, we don't have much time left to discuss this. If all goes as planned, Soona will have managed to gain an invitation for the banquet. Let's put on a show for these bastards - then get the hell out of here."

 

*********** end scene ***********

 

"Sit, please," Carol ordered in a quiet voice.

"I thought I was escorting you?" Jim asked, confused. His fingers wrapped around the back of the chair. Spock said something about pulling it out for her, but the woman remained standing.

"You already did." Carol's soft laughter trickled around him. "But I have things to do, starting with helping you find something to eat. You've slept an entire day, Jim."

"I have?" He widened his eyes. That explained why his stomach felt empty.

"There is a small sandwich in the fridge, courtesy of Mr. Scott, or we can comm Rand to bring you something from the mess hall if you prefer that, after it is approved by Dr.McCoy, of course. I shall get us some tea. But, first, here is a note left by your doctor."

Jim stiffened at his friend's name.

"Have no fear, Jim," she said gently, pressing a piece of paper into his hand. "I'm sure it's a good message."

He furrowed his brow, most confused at the paper, turning it in his hand and staring down as if he could see it. Didn't they use comms?

"The device to create those notes is on the table. It's quite simple to use, actually. I can show you later if you want."

Jim licked his lips, still hesitant. "So I am to read this?"

"Mmhmm," Carol hummed. "You are to read that before we do anything else."

Jim nodded and sank into the chair. He didn't want to take up anymore of her time then necessary. He already made things worse. If he didn't obey them now...

Jim didn't want to think about that so he set the paper on the table and traced the bumps with his right hand. Jim noticed with surprise that the glove was off, perhaps removed by Bones while he had slept. It was good to feel his skin against the bumps. It was even better to hear the words in his head. It was private. It was...it was...just good. Maybe this was that sense of accomplishment Bones had mentioned yesterday before they got to his quarters. Taking a deep breath, he reread the message:

_Jim-_

_First of all, I am not upset with you. Neither is Spock. I just can't be with you right now. I am needed on the away team today. I'll have you know that you pretty much rocked Spock's old shirt and your sweatpants showed how much eating you need to do. You're lucky you can chow down on what you want for awhile - starting with a sandwich from Mr. Scott._

_Dr. Marcus and Uhura will be helping you for a few hours while Spock and I are away. Christine will visit soon to make sure your vitals are within reason. Please let them know what you need while we are gone. When you are ready, tell Carol or Uhura to contact us and we will come to your quarters. But only when you are ready. We need to talk._

_Oh, and Buddy? I have no doubt that Dr. Marcus will offer to make you tea. The only thing that I ask you to do while we're gone is this: tell her your favorite kind. The box of my mama's tea is on the counter._

_Bones_

Jim blinked back tears. "He's not mad," he whispered, cupping the paper in the palm of his hands. "He's not upset with me."

He almost couldn't believe it and to squelch that disbelief, he read the raised bumps again. Bones wasn't angry. He called him Buddy. When Bones did that, it showed Jim that he cared. Maybe Jim could somehow get through this and through their talk later.

Carol lightly squeezed his shoulder. "Jim, I'm glad to hear it's good news."

"Carol?" It was a lot that Bones asked of Jim but since Bones wasn't mad at him...Jim felt compelled to obey the best that he possibly he could.

"Yes?"

"I have..a...a fav...favorite...tea..."

"You have a favorite," her voice sounded relieved. "I am glad you told me. There are twenty varieties on your replicator, Jim, and I wouldn't know even where to begin to choose for you. What is it?"

"Mint," he set the note on the table, wanting to smile that Bones remembered to leave out his favorite. But he couldn't. Instead, a sadness settled in his heart when he couldn't picture the McCoys' home. He wasn't sure he could ever tell Bones that. It would make his friend sad, maybe even sadder than Jim. "It's on the counter. You can try some if you like. It's...from Georgia. From Bones."

"Thank you, Jim." He heard her smile. "Mint tea for two it is."

 

* * *

 

As Spock's eyes fluttered open, McCoy glared at the Vulcan flat on his back in sickbay. Spock's gaze landed on McCoy all too innocently but he was not deterred. "What the _hell_ was that?"

"I do not understand," Spock said. Seeing that Spock was determined to sit up, McCoy lent him a hand.

"You marched right up here and fainted. Uhura commed me immediately. I told her you were fine. You're lucky that was all that happened to you. Your vitals are regulated, but I already corrected what happened. Which was this - you collapsed for no medical reason that I can see and were out cold for ten minutes." McCoy pressed his mouth thin. "Tell me why. Now."

"Jim."

"What?" At the vague reply, McCoy's mind raced with a million scenarios. "Hold on, Spock. Your bond with Jim did this?"

"Negative." Spock stood to his feet.

"Is Jim hurt?" McCoy's voice rose.

"He is well, doctor. I provided a shield for him when words from your disagreement appeared from behind the barrier. They shattered, leaving only vague impressions. He will no longer remember them."

McCoy's mouth hung open. "The words are gone?"

"Indeed."

McCoy blinked. "The bad ones?"

"Indeed."

"All of them?"

"Seventeen to be exact."

"Seventeen. Only seventeen," McCoy chuckled ruefully. "And this process caused you to drop on the beaming platform, over seventeen goddamn words. That's not acceptable."

"I concur."

"Then why the hell did you do it?"

"They were sending causing him great harm." Spock hesitated. "I did not know how my actions would affect me, Dr. McCoy."

"Great harm?" McCoy's eyes darkened. "By all means, Spock, don't mince words. You mean, like...untreatable, irreversible harm, don't you?"

"Yes," he said softly. "I discovered that the memories of sickbay have been engineered by the Re'an to inflict great harm once they are free from the barrier. I suspect they realized how much damage this would inflict on the captain even before the meld. Your camaraderie with the captain does not go unnoticed."

McCoy turned his back to Spock and braced an arm against the wall. "This _is_ my fault," he said quietly, "when it comes right down to it."

"No, doctor. That is not true."

"What about that safe place you created for him? Can't that work?"

"Directing Jim to find his haven of safe memories of us is insufficient for this task. I must do more. The harsh words will degrade Jim's mind each time he recalls them. I must shield them from him until they have dissolved."

"Jesus, Spock," McCoy turned back around and covered his face with a hand. "He can't, he can't fucking remember! We have to keep him in a goddamn bubble the rest of his life!"

"They come out at their own will. We cannot stop this."

"And why not?"

"I cannot predict which memories will escape. The manifestations of sickbay must be made known to Jim before I can locate them and thus shield him from their power. Which specific words will hurt him, doctor, I do not know. But they will hurt him deeply, I fear, more than I can possibly predict."

McCoy's stomach twisted at the thought of Jim experiencing even more heartache. Their captain had been through enough emotional hurt. "Hurt him? How?"

"They shattered into sharp pieces, and he experienced the pain as if they cascaded over his body. He felt them in his mind, but more than that, doctor, he felt the turmoil of losing you ten-fold and the truth continued to be blocked from his mind. He believed you to be the friend who abandoned him. However, he attempted to fight against your cruel words but remember the comforts you have recently given him. While I was determining the appropriate way to shield him, he wailed most savagely while he rocked himself back and forth on his bed. These words were some of the most damaging to Jim, but others remain hidden from him still."

The news punched McCoy in the stomach. " _God_ , no. No. We don't...we can't do this. I...I have to go see him." McCoy turned to leave. He needed to make sure Jim was well, but more than that, McCoy himself needed to take comfort in seeing his friend. "We will discuss this later."

"No," Spock grasped the doctor's arm and, ignoring McCoy's heated glare, held it firmly. "As I told you before, Jim is well. He does not need us at this present time. He is sufficiently cared for by Dr. Marcus and Lieutenant Uhura. We must proceed as planned and continue our present mission. What he experienced cannot be delayed nor forced to a halt. It will be a natural result as the barrier breaks."

McCoy was not comforted and neither did he agree with Spock. "No! We are going to help it, Spock! You cannot risk your well-being! Neither will I watch him be whittled down to fucking nothing! I will not allow that to happen. There has to be a different way. His safe place...my presence...or...." McCoy drew a deep breath, exhaling as he offered a heart-wrenching idea. "....stopping the barrier from breaking. Ceasing any of your influence to bring our captain back to us."

"If I proceed with your last suggestion, he will never be the man he once was. Doctor, do you truly wish your captain to remain this shell of himself?"

"If it is the best thing for him, yes, I do. I don't see any option as worth the risk," McCoy said hoarsely. "Nothing is worth causing the sort of damage that Jim cannot recover from. Nothing."

"Please allow me to continue. I shielded Jim until the words disappeared. In the process, I recognized he was most receptive to suggestion. I returned to him an emotion that the Re'an took from him - resolve. He is now beginning to understand it, but we must allow him this time without us."

"So this is the sugar coating you should've given me earlier? This is what makes this all better?" McCoy asked sarcastically.

"He is learning, doctor," Spock said slowly, as if McCoy was the one not understanding Jim's situation. McCoy understood it just fine. It was far too precarious for any of this. "He is learning about himself. He is learning he is capable of making decisions. I believe that this will help protect him the next time the incident occurs."

McCoy shook his head. "And you think all this is okay? For you to risk your health for seventeen goddamn words and for him to feel pain that you cannot even being to predict? You may not be so lucky next time!'

"It will be painful," he said softly. "But he will not be alone."

"At the risk of your life!"

"I am uncertain if it will come to that. I do believe I will lose consciousness after each break unless I determine another way to shield him."

"And how would you do that exactly? If it's another meld, I don't believe this is the appropriate time."

"Indeed, I would perform a proper mind meld, with caution. We cannot trigger the barrier nor can I determine another way to protect Jim unless I test my hypothesis."

"Goddammit, Spock," McCoy hissed. "There's no way in hell we are going to practice anything! We don't push this. If this happens again, do not put yourself in the line of fire, Commander. Comm me and I will heavily sedate him. He can't handle your _testing_ yet and you know it. He barely handled a fucking tour of his quarters. We need to prepare him to speak with Admiral Archer tomorrow. We've delayed it as long as possible, and that alone will be difficult enough for him. It's only because I sense his need for...for space..that I'm even here and not with him in his quarters now. He needs a little independence, some time away from us as he acclimates himself to his new surroundings, but he doesn't need his mind irrevocably ruined."

"It is imperative that we keep an open mind, Dr. McCoy. This situation is unavoidable. It will happen again."

"As CMO and Jim's attending physician, I'll keep an open mind when I fucking want to keep an open mind." McCoy's eyes flashed. "The answer is hell _no_."

"Very well. If you reconsider your decision, please inform me directly," Spock said in a low voice. "We will proceed with Jim as you so desire, Dr. McCoy. We have delayed the away team long enough. Meet me in the transporter room in ten minutes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. What a rotten way to end this chapter, a heated argument and a complication, but take heart. Spock and McCoy are not finished with that conversation by a long shot. McCoy's worry and concern spilled over in that scene big time...and things may have to get worse before they get better. I believe the good doctor will need some time to cool down before seeing Jim.
> 
>  
> 
> I do apologize for the lack of interaction between the big three. I know that probably added to the angst factor. :( That scene will be in the next chapter, but I didn't want this chapter to become monstrous like the last one. Also, I strongly believe that Jim needed time like this to grow.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a beta reader again! Rubyhair has kindly offered her assistance- and I am so grateful. She's awesome! I can't say enough about my excitement - she's quite skilled. I feel lucky. :)
> 
> All remaining errors are mine, of course. Hope you enjoy the read! :)

Jim's right hand rested like a limp, discarded rag on the table and his expression looked just as dismal. He was thinking too hard. Nyota's heart filling with even more compassion for Jim and his circumstances, she contemplated how to move him along without it sounding like a parental order. Spock was under the care of Dr. McCoy, and although she worried, Spock did not need her at this time. Jim did.

Nyota reached across the table. Jim's cool skin instantly shocked her. She almost withdrew from the touch but knowing that skin-to-skin contact was important to him, she squeezed his hand lightly in comfort. Since finishing his last bite of food, he hadn't stopped playing with his shirtsleeves. Nyota would have found this nervous habit humorous in any other situation but not today. Jim's shivering began a few minutes ago and no wonder. His meal would have met the needs of the entire fleet. Combined with the thin pair of pants he wore and his lowered body temperature, she was surprised Jim hadn't complained about his state of dress already. She retracted her last thought. She shouldn't be surprised, but at least he had requested another cup of hot tea after Carol threw a light blanket over his shoulders. That was a tiny step of progress.

"Jim, did you have enough to eat?" Nyota asked.

Jim's eyes fluttered down. "I'm done. That sandwich was good. Scott...Mr..." Jim frowned. "Uhura...does he have another name? Mr. Scott...isn't right."

It was information she could not give him but as she exchanged a glance with Carol, she saw her own hesitancy reflected in the science officer's eyes. This was just too much to keep from him. It was heartbreaking, and Nyota swiftly deflected before either of them made a dangerous mistake. "Yes, for a Scotsman, Mr. Scott is all wrong," she twirled the liquid in her glass and sighed.

Thankfully, Jim's lips twitched. Relieved he had gotten the joke, for now he didn't pick up on many, she shared a quick smile with Carol.

"I guess you're right. Mr. Scott does fit." Jim shrugged with a smile. "Especially since Scott is also his last name."

"Are you still cold? We could help you find something warmer to wear," Nyota suggested.

Jim nodded.

"Alright," Nyota said softly and gave his hand a squeeze. "Would you like to lead the way?"

"I don't know if you should go in there," he said quietly, making her wonder if he felt some level of embarrassment. "It's...a mess."

"Oh, I don't know if I'd say that." Carol's gentle words came as no surprise.

"I think it has to be. I dumped everything from my drawers out on the floor." Jim flushed. "It's not something that you probably want to deal with."

"Let us be the judge of that, okay?" Nyota knew for a fact it wasn't as bad as he envisioned.

"I threw everything out...like a kid," he mumbled.

"You weren't throwing a tantrum, Jim," Nyota said gently.

"Felt like one."

"Do you really think that's what it was?" She kept a hold on his hand, but halfway through her sentence Jim's hand was gripping hers. It gave her hope see this brotherly affection coming from him like before. "Because I think your actions were based on something quite different."

"I..." Jim sighed. "I liked the feeling it gave me."

"Go on..." Nyota urged.

"The control." His flush deepened. "I don't have much control over anything."

"I know you don't. This has to be frustrating to you."

"I don't remember the old me very well, so I can't be frustrated," Jim replied simply.

"It's a natural emotion even if you can't recall the past. But Jim, you are yourself." She used caution, but it was a point they wanted to get across to him at some time. She suppressed a chuckle. "The way you asserted yourself and took your clothes out of the drawers? That's something the old you would have done."

He blinked. "Really?"

"Yes, and I imagine you want to put all your clothing away now, which is also what the old you would want to do." She took a hesitant breath when he nodded miserably. "So, you are a lot like him, even if you can't see it. But we can."

"Will you help me fix...my mess?" He averted his eyes. "I can't...I can't do it alone."

"Dr. McCoy told us that you don't have to worry about that until he returns," Carol said.

"Oh." Jim's voice thinned. "He _is_ mad, then."

"No," interjected Carol. "Dr. McCoy said that it was fine if you wanted to reorganize your clothing again, but only if you wanted to. He doesn't want you to feel pressured into working with your clothing today, Jim."

"I do," he said quietly. "I need to fix it."

"That's what we'll do then, if you're sure," Nyota stood. "But first, we'll - "

"Find me clothing that actually matches?" Jim deadpanned.

It took Nyota a few extra seconds to realize he was making fun of himself. Carol cocked her head at Jim as if she couldn't believe it, either. Jim cracked a wide smile and shook his head.

"Come on, Uhura. It's bad. You can't deny it. Even blind I know it's offensive. It's why I wore the shirt to your party in the first place." He paused. "I think."

Carol hid a grin behind her hand.

Nyota wasn't so ladylike and snorted. "Jim, I admit that your fashion sense may have taken even more of a hit when you paired Spock's old shirt with red sweatpants - but you have us."

"We won't let you down," Carol affirmed.

"I know you won't. I am grateful that I have you both to help me." As they followed him to his bedroom, Jim's smile held only to be snuffed out as he took a seat at the foot of his bed. "I should've changed before I ate."

Carol dove into a pile, her hand lingering on a long-sleeved shirt. It was black, the color Nyota also expected Jim to choose. "No, you needed to eat, captain - Jim," she finished lamely.

Jim's mouth pressed into a firm thin line. The women held their breath as the seriousness in his eyes hinted that he wanted to comment on Carol's error. But, he didn't and the silence grew uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, Jim." Carol said after a moment, a sheen in her eyes. Of all of the senior crew members, Carol had been the most cautious, literally tip-toeing around the man. Carol would most likely never forgive herself if this upset him or provoked some reaction. Thankfully, Jim's countenance softened and now he appeared thoughtful and nowhere near being as upset as they had first thought.

"It's okay, Carol." He rubbed his chin. "I would have a hard time, too, I think. I guess...if it happens it happens. I don't mind...much. I mind it more when Spock does it purposefully."

"Do you have an idea of what you wanted to wear?" Nyota took a seat on Jim's floor, diving into another subject and into a massive pile of pants.

"Black," he mumbled under the cover of his hand. "Something black."

"Alright. You're in luck." Carol gently set the shirt in his lap. "I can find a sweatshirt for you, as well. You had several."

He nodded.

"Jeans?" Nyota asked. He gave an imperceptible frown and shrugged. She exchanged a look with Carol. Obviously, jeans were not in his database. She pressed the pair of denim pants into his hands. "Try them. They always look nice on you. There's a belt out here if they're too big, but these are a smaller size. I think they'll fit just fine."

He shifted on the bed, appearing more uncomfortable by the second.

"Jim? Is there something else you think you need?" Nyota had discreetly handed him a pair of boxers with that pair of jeans, which he appeared to have discovered and kept hidden from Carol. "Dr. McCoy also mentioned you may want to use the sonic shower."

"I forget how to use the sonic shower," he whispered. The lines of his face tightened before she could reassure him that it was alright he didn't remember. By the time his jaw clenched, she knew it may be difficult for him to hear and then attempt for himself, but she would try to explain the procedure to him. Those were the instructions she received from Dr. McCoy and if she failed, Sulu was on the bridge as backup.

"It's simple. Since you already know how to ask for your favorite tea as well as the food you wanted to eat, I'm sure you'll be able to speak the commands necessary for the shower." Nyota nudged him to stand.

Jim scrunched up his face. "B..b..but," he sputtered.

"They're basically the same thing," Nyota said sweetly.

Jim looked even more confused. Nyota kicked herself. He wouldn't understand that light-hearted comparison. "You've taken steps to assert your opinion and that is a skill you will use every day here on the ship, Jim."

"Oh, I see," he said slowly. "It will help Bones if I do these things on my own, won't it?"

"It will help you most, Jim." She paused. "But he does worry. It will help him, too."

Jim's eyes fluttered down. "And then you'll help me put my clothing away the way it had been before?"

She should've known.

"The exact way it was before?" Although she was dying from laughter on the inside, Nyota tried to keep her voice soft and even but couldn't stop the slight inflection at the end.

Jim nodded sheepishly. "It made sense to organize it all by color, that way I wouldn't mess anything up in case I had a bad day and forgot where I put all the different colored shirts. And, anyways, Bones had put the black shirts and the blue ones at the top. I liked that. A few pairs of jeans were there, too, as well as the hat you made. I remember liking jeans now. Bones knew what was best. He's...he's my friend and just knew."

Emotion pricked her eyes like daggers. Jim's simplistic, childlike response would haunt her the rest of the day and most of the next. She battled her deep concern for Spock's well-being, comparing his health to the gaping hole in each crew member's heart caused by a missing captain. She was almost certain now that she agreed with Spock to continue whatever he needed to do for James T. Kirk. "Then we will get straight to work."

* * *

 

McCoy tamped down a groan as his bruised body began to ascend the mountain before them, although Spock insisted it qualified as a hill. "So, now we know that the ground can give in at a moment's notice. Wonderful."

"Indeed, we are now aware that these risks occur only at the lowest level of terrain, beginning at -"

McCoy's heavy sigh drowned out Spock's statistics. "Spock. Doesn't matter a whit to me what the stats are only that miraculously all of us survived and my medkit was crushed after we fell."

"That was most unfortunate," Spock replied.

"That's your answer for everything, isn't it," McCoy muttered under his breath.

"Fascinating." Not even appearing winded, Spock continued to ascend.

"What is?" McCoy frowned.

"I find it fascinating that you directly correlated my reaction to this incident with my previous, brief state of unconsciousness."

McCoy scowled and dug his boot into the ground to heave himself up to a small break of rocks. He paused, glaring at the Vulcan's disappearing back. If anything could go wrong on this short mission, it had, beginning the very moment the team of seven beamed down to the Class M planet. It was like Jim was right there with them for all the maladies and mishaps that had occurred. Ensign Chekov, of all people, burst out into a strong case of hives. After no indication whatsoever, the ground beneath McCoy, one botanist, and one security officer gave way and had it not been for the overgrown plants that came down with them into a hole of earth, they would all be facing broken bones and worse instead of various contusions. Security remained with the other botanist as McCoy, Spock, and Ensign Dorle made their way to higher ground, Spock leading the way.

The worst part was being on this damn planet while McCoy's best friend, who had suffered from an anxiety attack straight from hell without him, remained on the Enterprise.

"These life forms..." McCoy made record time catching up to Spock, his irritation with the acting captain intensifying and driving his steps as he thought of other dangers. "What do you know?"

"They make their home one thousand kilometers away, doctor. They are peaceful farmers, having abandoned their hunting and gathering way of life over five thousand years ago and annihilated their only enemy at the same time."

"Peaceful, my ass," McCoy muttered under his breath. "That's what was said the last time. Your point being?"

Spock straightened, pausing as he glanced at McCoy. "I believe that the cap-"

"Hold it right there, mister," McCoy frowned. "Don't even tell me you're going to suggest bringing Jim down here."

"This planet sustains a substantial amount of flora. I estimate at least one thousand five hundred sixty-two species," Spock stated.

"Mr. Spock is correct," Ensign Dorle spoke softly from beside McCoy. "We are having difficulty distinguishing between a few hundred of those. The captain could help us categorize on texture and scent alone if our early scans are correct and these species are well-suited for human hands. These are most unique plants, doctor. Based on early scans, we have some expectation that they are suitable for medicinal purposes but we do know they are highly intertwined with the planet's lifeforms and their way of life."

Spock halted them as they reached the pinnacle. McCoy stared coolly at Spock but followed him through a thinly wooded area and into a clearing. McCoy's gaze fell upon a pond, the water so pure and unpolluted he could see straight to the bottom. Although bright blue and green sparsely-leaved trees and plants built a circular wall around them, he didn't have the constant gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach as he had on Re'an V.

Re'an V had been dark and thick and foreboding. This planet was light and airy and promising. Just as McCoy could see right through the crystal blue water, he saw exactly what Spock intended.

"Did you even consider the captain's allergies? That this is a planet we've hardly stepped foot on for two days? That Chekov was already beamed back to the ship on account of an allergic reaction? That Jim is still building up his muscle again from over two weeks of dormancy? His right arm still bothers him, he hasn't regained total use of his right hand, and I suspect right now that he is napping. _Again_."

"As I recall, you were not convinced Mr. Chekov's reaction was specifically induced by any flora from this planet but a result of what he consumed in the mess hall this morning. Those varieties which are harmless to humans will be sufficiently scanned beforehand, doctor, and tested. We require at least five more days to complete our scan of the phenomena and moons surrounding this planet as well as its inhabitants. Thus, the captain has three days to prepare. Furthermore, our transporter will beam Jim to the exact area in which he could be useful. He will not expend more energy than is necessary." Spock arched a brow. "Lastly, I believe you will continue to debate the merits of the captain accompanying us on any mission. You will also continue to use weak arguments in opposition as your irritation with me progresses and you do not overcome your feelings."

"Weak?" McCoy couldn't believe it. "He's making baby steps. This is a goddamn monstrous leap."

"Ensign Dorle, would you excuse us?" Spock asked.

"Yes, sir." Dorle nodded and moved an appropriate distance away.

"Dr. McCoy," Spock began calmly, "This opportunity would reveal his usefulness to him and thus, impart a level of fulfillment that we are unable to provide for him otherwise."

"No." McCoy crossed his arms. "That cannot happen here, Spock."

"There is nothing to fear, doctor. The environment is two point nine degrees warmer than the average Georgia summer day. Ensign Dorle is a patient man, and Jim will be comfortable while he works with him. Of course, you would also accompany the captain."

"The only thing I fear is pushing things too fast, too hard. You've already discussed this, obviously, and made the decision without me." McCoy's irritation with Spock skyrocketed as he acknowledged the truths: to their knowledge, there was nothing to fear here and the ensign did have the patience of a saint. If Jim had his sight, he'd kick off his boots, roll up his pants, and sit by the damn pond to enjoy a few quiet moments. It crushed McCoy. "You're trying to butter me up first by requesting my presence on the away team so I can see this place - and then proceed to talk about my Terran southern home? _No_."

"It is merely a suggestion. You are Jim's attending physician. Therefore, the ultimate decision is yours. Giving him an opportunity to assist will benefit him. He must feel at ease with us, and he has yet to reach that level of comfort."

"Of course he hasn't! He hasn't come to grips with his blindness, either." McCoy gave a frustrated sigh. It was his professional opinion that Spock's logic was getting in the way of the heart of the matter - Jim's overall health, including the physical. "This is a long process, Spock."

"I am well aware of the process, Dr. McCoy." Spock's eyes darkened.

McCoy lifted his chin, his mind revisiting the medical concerns of Jim's condition. Now added to that was Spock's own mental and physical health - both of which remained a dangerous unknown if he shielded Jim. "It's a complicated process. I am not sure that this step is necessary yet. Allow him to have more time to work things out first."

"I believe that after speaking with the Admiral, he will desire to do more than remain in his quarters. We both concur that Jim exploring the much of the Enterprise is unsuitable at this present time," Spock finished firmly.

"You think that we won't be able to contain him? Is that it?" McCoy had given that some thought as well, but the Re'an barrier was still strong in Jim. He did not believe Jim would try to break out of his own quarters or disobey remaining within the parameters that they had set for him.

"This will be a safe place."

"Re'an V was supposed to have been a safe place," McCoy said in a quiet voice, fingering his comm. He'd heard enough. He'd seen enough, too. As much as he knew Jim would love to sit by the water and maybe even dip his feet into it, the risks were too great. With Jim in his present condition, they always would be. "Look where that got us."

"Jim knew of the risks, doctor."

"Does he know of the risk you wish to take with your own health?" McCoy challenged, miffed that Spock seemed to have read his mind even without the Vulcan voodoo. But, more than that, McCoy didn't want to see two of his best friends in the direct path of irreparable harm. Not that he'd ever admit that to the commander.

Spock arched a brow. "Dr. McCoy, as I expected, you returned to your original argument. I now ascertain it would have been prudent to have delayed this conversation until tomorrow."

McCoy snorted. If he didn't know any better, that was a well-placed, Vulcan deflection. "To give me time to cool off from earlier?"

"Indeed, and I have agreed to your wishes, doctor. Now, heed mine. You are relieved of your duties for the remaining duration of your shift. You may return to the Enterprise for a time of reflection upon the proposed mission as well as on the purpose of shielding the captain should he experience another episode. It is imperative, however, that we continue our discussion after you have reconsidered Jim's involvement on the planet." Spock paused. "I also insist that you refrain from returning to the captain's quarters until I have beamed aboard the Enterprise and the captain has requested our presence."

If this was how Spock was going to play this game, McCoy had no objections. It was getting more difficult to breathe the same air. "As you wish, Mr. Spock."

* * *

 

McCoy didn't loiter in the mess hall for his early evening meal. After spending hours in the gym, he already determined he was going back for more. Alone and without Jim once again, sitting at their usual table stirred up too many memories and even more emotion than what he'd so far successfully suppressed. He left heartbroken. He left recalling that Jim had felt the exact same way in the manifestations.

McCoy left, feeling as if his heart may never fully repair.

When Jim returned to his jolly old self, McCoy would make meeting Jim for breakfast, lunch, and dinner mandatory every day. For life. Even if Jim didn't return to being the man McCoy had once known, he made the same silent but fervent promise to his best friend.

McCoy finally noticed Christine after peeling off his extra shirt.

"Dr. McCoy," Christine said, arms crossed and standing next to the punching bag right next to his.

"Didn't know you worked out at night." He muttered. He'd asked her to keep track of Jim, not him. "And, we're off duty, Chris. It's Leonard."

"You've been at this for hours." She looked pointedly at the faint pink hue on the wraps around his knuckles.

"Nope. Just took a break." McCoy hardly glanced up at her as he rewrapped his hands.

"A break?" She snorted. "It was ten minutes in the mess hall, after hours of punishing yourself."

"You would be to if you've had to listen to nonsense," he muttered.

"Len," she said, her eyes piercing him as she leaned forward. "Stop it. I know this past month has been difficult, but you're not thinking straight right now. Find someone to talk to -"

"Can't. That one person I would talk to? He pulled out a ridiculous shirt from his dresser yesterday, as well as every last article of clothing in that dresser. He is hanging out with Uhura as we speak, probably sipping hot tea to keep himself warm because his body temperature? It's nothing that I can fix." He pounded the bag, cursing softly. "There's too much that I can't fix for him. Me. His doctor. And I can't fucking fix this for him."

He swung harder.

"Oh, Len." Chris sighed. "Then...get a massage - not this type of anger management."

"Massage, my ass," he scoffed and swung again. McCoy began to tune out the words coming from his best nurse. She cared - too much.

"Yes, that's exactly my point," she hissed. "Do you really want to keep this up tonight? After what I saw today Jim doesn't need - "

Hearing Jim's name, McCoy jerked his head up and stopped the bag, chest heaving. He gulped a breath. "Jim? What's wrong with Jim?"

She rolled her eyes. "Len, pay attention. He's fine but he's going to need his best friend _in one piece_ after spending a long day apart from you. I've been monitoring his vitals all day and sending you reports as you requested. You know he's fine. Go talk to the commander. They're back."

McCoy began another round. He knew they were back. He was merely ignoring Spock's most recent message a little while longer. Christine arched a brow and McCoy was almost afraid to hear what else was on her mind.

"Jim will notice what's up between you and the commander," she continued. "If I know from just observing you today that you and Mr. Spock are at odds, you know Jim will pick up on it."

"Dammit," McCoy whispered and pulled the bag forward. He leaned his head against the bag, arms wrapped around it to support himself. "You're right. Jim won't miss a single thing."

McCoy could see Jim immediately wondering if it was his fault and allowing self-blame to fester. McCoy couldn't let that happen. Chris was right, as always. She positioned herself in front of him, her no-nonsense nurse mode nothing new except for when it came to him.

"Hit the showers. Get dressed and go find - " She stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening as she stared at a spot over his shoulder.

McCoy bit back a groan. "Don't tell me. He found me?"

"I'll see you, tomorrow." She smiled sweetly and moved for the exit. McCoy grimaced, resigning himself to the lion's den. He remained where he was. Spock was sure to be walking towards him and McCoy was in no mood to make things any easier on the Vulcan.

"Dr. McCoy," Spock said once he was within McCoy's sight. He opened his mouth to speak again, but his gaze fell on McCoy's newly wrapped knuckles. "You are injured."

"I can't even feel it, Spock," McCoy muttered as red seeped through.

"I insist that I accompany you to sickbay." Spock's mouth tightened.

The fatigue from his physical exertion finally hitting him, McCoy nodded and wondered how the hell he got himself into this mess. It was Jim who resorted to reckless behavior when he needed to burn off steam. Not him. Definitely not McCoy. He possibly leaned against the corridor walls once or twice, but by the time they got to the lift, he was well aware of Spock's hand on his arm guiding him inside. McCoy groaned and leaned his head against the wall. "I'm sorry, Spock."

"An apology is unnecessary."

McCoy sighed and shook his head. "No, Spock. It is necessary. I've been upset and avoiding you and that was wrong. I know we need to talk about taking Jim along on the damned landing party. The thing is, Archer will inspire Jim when they talk because the admiral has always had that effect on him. I doubt it will be any different even now. Despite the damage done to Jim's mind, he will become antsy."

"Indeed."

"I will only allow him to be there for three hours a day," McCoy said, almost certain that it would be two hours too many for Jim. However, deep down, he also knew he had to appease Spock and give Jim this opportunity.

After all, both McCoy and Spock were fighting with all they had with the same goal in mind - bringing their captain back.

"You will permit Jim's presence on the away team for more than one day?" Spock queried.

"He can have two days, if he adjusts well."

"Three hours may not be sufficient," Spock said.

"It's three hours," McCoy said sharply as the doors opened. "Or nothing."

Spock closed the doors before McCoy took a single step.

McCoy's eyes widened. Spock only did this kind of thing to Jim, when Jim was being a stubborn ass about one thing or another and needed the advice of his first, whether or not he even requested it. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"I have said nothing, doctor." Spock arched a brow.

"No, but you just closed the damn doors," McCoy huffed. "You only do that to Jim, when he's being an idiot and needs you to set him on the straight and narrow."

Spock stiffened.

It had been over a month - and look at them. They needed Jim. "I miss him. He's here with us, but not completely. And...we're a mess," McCoy said quietly. "A goddamned mess."

Those statements as well as their unresolved issues weighed heavily between them for a moment. McCoy stared at the closed lift door, wondering if he really would be able to hide the emotions boiling at the surface from Jim.

"We are equally concerned for our captain's welfare," Spock finally said.

"You're absolutely right. I don't want him hurt more." McCoy turned his head and looked at Spock straight in the eyes. "I don't want you hurt, either, Spock. If you are, who will take care of his ship?"

"I must do what is necessary," Spock said, his tone firm.

"So must I," McCoy replied.

"The crew needs their captain."

"Spock, I know that. But, there's more at stake than that - more than we could possibly know, as you yourself have acknowledged. I need you to be okay. Jim needs you to be okay. Uhura needs you to be okay." McCoy continued, hoping Spock would listen with his heart rather than his logic. "I need you to be okay."

"You have necessitated my well-being twice now, Dr. McCoy." Spock said, his voice softening.

McCoy frowned. "It's true. How can I care for Jim when...or if..."

Spock blinked at him. McCoy could not continue that statement even if his life depended upon it.

"I see," Spock said gently. "I agreed to your wishes for now, as long as you are available to sedate the captain. You must be made aware that a mere sedative will be unable to shield him as I can."

"But it will help." McCoy didn't dare pose that statement as a question.

"Yes." Spock's shoulders relaxed. "I believe that we have settled on a compromise for the time being."

McCoy took a deep breath. "As long as Jim maintains his present state, yes, and until we both have determined that it is safe to perform another superficial meld."

"If his state changes, Dr. McCoy?" Spock asked.

"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it," McCoy said.

"Very well." Spock nodded. The doors opened and he inclined his head towards sickbay. "Dr. McCoy, after you."

* * *

 

"You're sure they'll be here soon?" Jim scooted over on his couch to allow room for Uhura. The anxiety stirred miserably in his stomach, growing to an almost unbearable level as they waited. Carol left several hours ago, once Christine came by for the third time to check his vitals per Bones' request. Jim didn't quite understand why checking his vitals every other hour was necessary but he assumed Bones' overprotective nature had something to do with it. "Bones changed his mind, didn't he? He doesn't want to talk to me. Maybe I waited too long to ask them to come here. I didn't mean to wait so long, but I was tired - "

"Nurse Chapel practically forced you to take a nap," Uhura reminded him. "Dr. McCoy is not upset."

"But, maybe -"

"Shhh," Uhura whispered, her hand pressed over his mouth. "Calm down. They had something to work out between them. They're on their way, Jim. In fact..."

The door chimed and Jim jumped to his feet, hedging towards a safer room than this one - his bedroom. "I'm gonna...I mean... 'night, Uhura."

"You are not doing this to them, Kirk, not after the day they had," she grumbled. "They need to see you."

Before he realized what she was doing or could ponder what she meant, she pulled him along and they were at his door. It slid open at Uhura's command.

"Hey, Jim." Bones' voice sounded gruff. If Jim didn't know any better, contained a hint of emotion, the kind that made the doctor's eyes tear up when he least expected it to and the kind that made Jim's tear up in turn.

"Bones," Jim whispered. In the ensuing silence, the apology that was in his heart and on the tip of his tongue the entire day was forgotten. All he wanted was an affirmation that everything was well between them - and affirmation was what he received.

"C'mere, kid." Bones stepped into his quarters and crushed him with an embrace.

After Uhura slipped out quietly, Jim's two best friends explained more of the 'truth.' His mind raced with questions. He still didn't understand what had happened to him, but with that confusion came a natural contentment to let his friends explain only what was necessary and as they saw fit. At this time, they spoke not of what had caused his condition but of two events in the near future for which he must prepare.

Jim's mouth dropped open. They couldn't possibly be serious.

"Jim?" Bones called softly. "Ya alright, Buddy? I know it's a lot to take in."

"I'm going to talk to Admiral Archer tomorrow...and take part in a mission?" Numb, Jim repeated their words to him.

Bones shifted on the couch beside him. "The mission won't be for a few more days. I'd like you to get in as much physical therapy as possible before then..."

But Jim had already moved on. Dazed, he couldn't believe he would actually be a member of the landing party. It was...he really wasn't sure what he thought of that yet. And Archer wanted him to speak with him? He thought he'd always liked Archer, and although his tongue was twisted up just thinking of speaking to the admiral, he wasn't sure it would be so bad especially if Spock and Bones were with him.

"...I wanted us to be there with you, but Archer wants to speak with you alone, Jim," Bones finished softly.

Jim's eyes widened, only catching the last few words. "Alone? Why?"

"I suspect he wants to see for himself how you're doing without us influencin' ya." Bones squeezed his shoulder. "But you'll be fine."

Jim swallowed. "He could change his mind. He could order me off this ship."

"It is reasonable to believe that nothing you could say would alter the course the admiral has set, Jim," said Spock.

Despite Spock's words, the lump in Jim's throat swelled. He lost the Re'an. He lost his sight. He lost things he still couldn't remember even losing in the first place. What if he lost Spock? Bones? "I don't want to leave you," he whispered. He'd have nothing left.

"You have nothing to fear, Jim," Spock stated. "This is a measure the admiral believes will secure your place on board the Enterprise."

"You're in charge of me, Bones, right? You won't let them take me. Please?" Jim pleaded. "Bones?"

The silence that followed grew. Believing that he'd somehow hurt his friend, Jim almost wished he could take the words back. Which words, he wasn't certain. He knew without a doubt that the first thing he said was true. Even before he'd spoken the words, a memory sprung from a clouded place, guided along by a hand he knew well by now.

The images burned with brilliance and ushered in only one of many things he'd forgotten of his captaincy. Jim fought to keep the memory alive, holding on to it with a whispery thin resolve but resolve, nonetheless. He saw himself decidedly giving Bones that responsibility before they stepped foot on the Enterprise for a long mission and then again on Re'an V, with Bones looking him straight in the eye, with _resolve_ , with affection. He heard Bones' ready reply as he clapped him on the shoulder, feeling that ghostly imprint there now. He sensed Spock trying to give more of the memory to him but then the Vulcan halted, obstructed by that something Jim still didn't understand and Spock could not break.

Jim twisted his hands together beneath the blanket on his lap, waiting. Spock had given him a gift. It was a beautiful, precious gift linking him to them in a way he never experienced before. And although he wanted reassurance that his very person was in someone else's hands - Bones' hands - even more, he wanted to know that his words hadn't upset the doctor. Jim couldn't stand the thought of Bones being upset and he being the reason. His friend. His _best_ friend.

He didn't dare breathe.

When the doctor's soft drawl filled the room, beckoning with all the gentleness he needed to hear, Jim sagged in his seat on the couch, unaware that a tear had leaked from the corner of the doctor's eye and he had merely needed a moment to compose himself.

"Yes. I am in charge of you, Jim. I won't let them take you," Bones said quietly. "But the truth is, Jim, there's not a single one of us here on the Enterprise who would ever let you go."


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously debated posting this week...Leonard Nimoy will be greatly missed by us all. I know I must speak for many of us that the past few days have been difficult. In the spirit of Star Trek, however, I decided to proceed. This story is, after all, a story about friends. 
> 
> Also, I must thank Rubyhair for spectacularly saving this chapter from a plot hole or two! :-) I appreciate her help so much! Thanks for reading!

Spock considered James T. Kirk to be a remarkable human being, this impression having been carved by experiencing the young man's mistakes and glories first hand. Spock's perception of Jim had not diminished in the wake of the ravaging Re'an meld. Quite the opposite. Jim took to his upcoming responsibilities well in spite of his freshly gathered fears. Jim was rising above the difficulty and Spock found no fault in this process. Although Spock's logic told him that Jim was up to the challenge, McCoy's affectionate concern towards Jim almost undid his previous stoicism. Spock admittedly was not as adept in concealing his emotions as he had been before. Indeed, it was a tumultuous time for them all.

Unsuspecting of Spock's piercing observations, the captain's eyes fixated on the floor and he chewed his bottom lip with a vengeance. There was no doubt in Spock's mind that Jim was contemplating the days ahead, having recently finished discussing his concerns with Spock and McCoy. Although curious, Spock allowed the captain the privacy that was due him and did not abuse their shared bond. He did, however, sense that Jim was not anxious but merely engrossed in a moment of great contemplation. Spock was unsurprised. He anticipated a domino effect, that the discussion of Admiral Archer would stoke the fire within Jim's mind and the upcoming mission to elicit numerous questions. He waited for Jim to speak and was thus rewarded for his patience.

"Coffee," Jim finally breathed, a laborious sigh filling the room.

Both of Spock's brows lifted in surprise. This was unexpected. The captain spoke of his favorite beverage in a curious manner - a soft utterance laced with longing but cautious, as if he debated the safety in speaking such a word. Indeed, it would not be safe had Dr. McCoy been in Jim's quarters and not in sickbay taking care of an emergency. To Spock's knowledge, Jim had not consumed the beverage since returning from Re'an V. Neither had he spoken of it, and Spock suspected this was the first time Jim had even considered the drink since before his rescue. Yet, a beverage provoked memories once again. Curious to see the conversation develop, Spock waited for Jim to elaborate and provide the connection between Admiral Archer and coffee.

"I want...coffee. Archer always gave me coffee at Christmas, even the Christmases I was a cadet. The good stuff, too. Only, I never knew it was him until after Pike...after Pike..." Jim's voice quieted. "Anyways, yeah. Coffee."

"Fascinating," Spock murmured.

"Spock? Does...does the replicator have...coffee?" Jim's voice teemed with a hope that Spock found he had no desire to extinguish nor did he wish to see the hesitant smile on the captain's face vanish.

"Yes, Jim, it is programmed for coffee."

The captain rose to his feet and used his cane and the device at his hip to find his way to the machine. Seeing Jim's intention, Spock decided it was his duty to at least inform Jim of the benefits and risks. There were no decaffeinated options programed in the replicator. To McCoy's chagrin, Jim promptly removed the decaffeinated option each and every time the doctor added it. Spock quickly prepared a series of questions to properly inform Jim of the consequences of consuming coffee at this late hour.

"Are you aware of the time?" Spock asked.

Jim stopped at the replicator and ran his hands over the front, smiling as if it were a brilliant discovery. He paused and glanced in Spock's direction, the light in the room catching Jim's eyes. For the first time since the peach hues appeared in the captain's eyes, the blue overshadowed the Re'an flecks of color. Spock peered at the captain. It was then that Spock decided a break in the barrier was the cause for this immediate change, combined with the healed infection. No matter how minute the break had been, something had changed.

"It's late, I guess, but I've been tired all day. And, coffee does...something to me. It helps energize me, I think." Jim rubbed the back of his neck, face scrunched. "Caffeine?"

"Dr. McCoy may wish to speak with you first about the dangers of consuming a caffeinated beverage."

"But, Bones is busy." Jim's hand dropped from his neck and his eyes brightened. "You could tell me all of that, couldn't you?"

Spock did not hesitate to be of use to his captain. "Indeed, Jim. I could."

Ten minutes later, the doctor returned. McCoy halted in his tracks, his eyes widening as he stared at the mug in Jim's hands.

"I smell coffee," the doctor said slowly, eyes peeled on the steam coming from that single cup. "Spock, please tell me I don't smell coffee. Please tell me that Jim Kirk is not drinking coffee."

"It's good, Bones," Jim's mouth forged into a wide, gleaming smile. "I forgot how good it was."

"Good God, man! He needs to go to sleep some time tonight! And you let him drink coffee?" McCoy's accusatory voice filled the room and his words pointed a finger directly at Spock. "I might as well leave him with Mr. Scott if this is what you're going to let him do!"

"I do not believe one can equate coffee with alchohol, doctor," Spock differentiated for McCoy.

"Unbelievable," McCoy muttered. "That may be true but is that all you can say for yourself?"

"The captain no longer desired to experience the fatigue which plagued him much of the day. He made a decision, doctor," Spock explained. "Allow him to suffer the consequences."

"Not captain, Spock," Jim said, smiling before indulging in another taste.

"Consequences," McCoy snorted. "The only one suffering consequences will be me trying to get this idiot to sleep."

Cup halfway to his mouth once more, Jim's eyes widened. "I forgot about coffee, Bones. I just...it was good. Really good. Bones? Please don't be mad. I'll...I'll never have another cup of coffee again." Jim held out his cup. "I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Buddy. You've always loved coffee, and now that you rediscovered it...well...I can't say I blame ya." McCoy took the cup from his hand, scowling at the remaining contents and then at the captain before ultimately settling on Spock. "But you, on the other hand..."

Spock offered a vague apology or an excuse - whichever one the doctor preferred. "Perhaps my methods were unorthodox but I found that I could not douse his fledgling independence nor his enthusiasm, doctor."

McCoy's gaze flitted back to Jim, his expression softening. "Is that so?"

Spock then felt compelled to explain. "My actions were illogical but it was necessary that he make this informed decision on his own."

"You warned him, then?" McCoy's tone relaxed. "What it does?"

"Indeed."

"You warned him," McCoy regarded him cautiously, "and he made this decision on his own, then?"

"He utilized the replicator of his own accord," Spock added, almost proud.

As expected, McCoy's fierce scowl softened more and he affectionately squeezed Jim's shoulder. "Good. That's good."

"He did and I did and I did that, too," Jim said brightly. "Bones, maybe since it's not so bad, compared to other things like alcohol as you said, I can have another cup? Or, two?"

"Hell no, Jim." McCoy sighed and sank down into the seat beside Jim. "Just...no.

"Please?" Jim bounced forward in his seat.

"Dr. McCoy, perhaps it would -" Spock began.

McCoy groaned, putting his head in his hands. "Unless you have a detailed plan to successfully get a wired Jim Kirk to sleep tonight, not a word, Spock. Not another damn word."

Spock obeyed the doctor's severely spoken order. Jim smiled, and Spock sensed the captain's thoughts lingering on the delicious beverage he had consumed. It had been worth it. Indeed, both Spock and Jim deserved the rage of McCoy.

He would extend his gratitude to the doctor later.

 

* * *

 

Archer relaxed into the back of his cushioned, heated chair behind his desk. He was taking this call from the comforts of home, not that his audience would even mind his unprofessional surroundings. It was a sad thought and he forced a smile on his face before the doctor's face was on screen. The doctor looked a little more haggard than the last time they'd spoken face to face, the circles under his eyes new and disconcerting.

"Doctor, it's a pleasure." Archer gave him a small smile.

"Good morning, Admiral," Dr. McCoy nodded in return. Archer happily saw they'd set Kirk up in his own quarters for this conversation. It wouldn't do for the man to be even more uncomfortable about this than he had to be. "He's in the other room right now but I'll call him in when you're ready."

"Is he ready?"

"As he'll ever be." McCoy scowled. "I had to sedate him last night and he slept in late today. Jim was bouncing off the walls after we told him about talking with you. But that may have been more from the cup of coffee he replicated behind my back."

Archer now understood the dark circles. He gave a small laugh. "Sounds like Kirk."

McCoy nodded morosely. "Spock just watched him do it. Said Jim needed to make this decision on his own, especially since he was suddenly so impassioned over coffee. I believe Jim has Spock wrapped around his finger."

Archer chuckled. "That is a peculiar image, I confess. I assume you couldn't let Jim suffer."

McCoy's face relaxed, revealing the soft spot he had for Jim Kirk.. "No, I couldn't. I can't fix much right now, Admiral, but I was able to fix that."

"You are doing your best." Archer clasped his hands on the desk and leaned forward, earnest in his query. It would do no good to push Kirk through this conversation today. "Is he up for this, doctor?"

"He'll be fine. He has his hat and another cup of coffee in his hand." McCoy hesitated. "Those are two very important things to him right now."

Archer's mouth twitched. "Another cup of coffee?"

"His second cup this morning. I figured it would be an incentive. He does remember you, Admiral. You are what reminded him of coffee, after all, but I must be honest with you - he is anxious."

Archer rubbed his chin. A nervous, hat-wearing Jim Kirk sounded...fascinating. "Send him in, then."

 

* * *

  

The conversation with Archer was going better than Jim expected. He assumed that almost ten minutes had passed. He also suspected Archer may be saddened to see him in this state. Bones often tried to hide his dismay from Jim. So, Jim attempted his most pleasant and attentive expression but he couldn't keep his eyes on the view screen. It was altogether too taxing to constantly remind himself to guess where the Admiral's face was and that bothered him a bit. He hardly ever tried to find Bones' face when he talked to him. Feeling worse about himself each second, Jim refrained from explaining. An ache settled in his shoulders and back as Archer talked. He did not want to appear rude but Archer caught on quickly.

"It's okay, son," Archer assured him. "I can see you perfectly clear and that is all that matters. Relax. Tell me about yourself."

"Sir?" How could he even answer that? Former captain? Blind man? Archer already knew he was those things. He didn't know enough about himself yet to add to that description.

"You're finding more about yourself these days, Jim. I am interested in that. So tell me, who is Jim Kirk?"

"I'm..." For the Admiral's sake, Jim thought on that for a moment. Jim Kirk was a man who wanted to remain on the Enterprise. He was a man willing to do whatever he needed to do to make that happen. He owed his friends that much, at least. He'd been oblivious to the signs the night before but this morning he contemplated what Uhura had said. Bones and Spock had been at odds or fighting...or something...and Jim had the feeling it was because of him. He couldn't let that happen again and promised to look beyond himself and after the people around him the best that he possibly could. Even blind, he could do something, couldn't he? He'd given a lot of thought to the troubling subject. These people around him - they all cared deeply for one another and it pained Jim to sense their unhappiness. That coffee had done more than provide energy for this conversation. It had pushed him beyond his closed world.

Believing that Archer could somehow help him, he opened up to him like he would have to Pike had the late admiral survived the attack on HQ. Jim finished speaking and blinked his eyes, fighting against the pooling liquid.

"It's good to see you thinking like you always do, Jim," Archer said immediately. "This mission you're going on in a few days..."

"Yes, sir?"

"It's for them as much as it is for you."

"I know," Jim said softly. That had been obvious since almost the very beginning.

"I believe you'll discover more about yourself then but promise me, Jim..."

"Yes, Admiral." Jim took a deep breath. "Sir."

"Be true to who you are. Do not force yourself to become the Jim Kirk that you think you should be. This is not a race...take your time."

"It may take me quite awhile," Jim admitted.

"That's true but there is nothing wrong with taking small steps. You have time, son." Archer paused and so did Jim. "Does this bother you?"

Bother him? Jim had no frustration about that whatsoever, despite the gaps in his memory. Or maybe it was because of those very gaps that he was content with his lot in life and the slow progress he was making. "No, because I trust them. Even though I don't know what happened...I trust them." Jim hoped the admiral trusted them, too.

"Pike may no longer be with us but I've got your back, Jim, and so does the crew of the Enterprise. You're in the safest and best place you could be, as well as being with the most capable people." Archer's voice grew firm, settling the small wave of doubt churning in Jim's stomach. "And I'll be damned if I ever let anyone or anything get in the way of that."

 

* * *

 

Bones did not question Jim about his conversation with Archer that day nor the next two. The fourth day after the conversation, Jim realized that Spock had delayed the mission by twenty-four hours and Bones still didn't pester him for information. Jim appreciated that his best friend respected his privacy. Neither did Jim willingly offer any information. Archer had given him a lot to think about and Jim was still dissecting it all as he was in the midst of preparations for the upcoming mission. He now understood the transporting system and how to use the scanner and comms, although they disallowed him a comm of his own. Bones had been right to predict that his therapists would work him harder this week, but even Jim was satisfied with the results. He could squeeze his right hand without a shooting pain up his arm and he developed enough strength and muscle to begin a more normal exercise regime.

As sidetracked as Jim was, he realized his best friends were engrossed with their own thoughts. He didn't understand why until Bones and Spock took him to another place on the ship.

"Those things you've been doing this week? That's just the tip of the iceberg," Bones said.

"What do you mean?" The concept eluded Jim.

"Thanks to Mr. Scott and Spock helping me with a project, we can improve your sight - beginning today."

"What?" Jim widened his eyes, not certain he heard correctly. "My sight?"

"Your eyes are healthy, Jim, except for a misfiring of the optic nerve. We didn't see that before, but Spock is forming a theory as to why the scans and tests missed it. Medically, there's no logical reason behind this error." Bones paused, chuckling. "You wouldn't think this would be a good thing, but it is. When Spock confirmed the possibility of it two days ago, I almost didn't believe it myself."

"You've known? For two days?" Jim shifted his stance, a bit resentful. "And you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't want to get your hopes up, kid," Bones said softly. "Neither did Spock. You haven't been on the other side of things, Jim. There hasn't been much we could do to help you, and what we have done is taking its darn good time. We've had...we've had some disappointments. Some big ones. We didn't want you dealing with those, too. You're dealing with a lot already, Jim, and I know you've still been thinking about your conversation with Archer."

"I see." Jim thought he could and should understand that, but he wished he'd been told. Still, this was good news. "How could the fact that you missed this in a test even help me?"

"If we'd pushed things early on, your optic nerve would have been permanently damaged. But now, we know that your device can compensate for the misfire. We adjusted it to work with the lenses we put in your eyes this morning. After light is converted to electricity, these electrical impulses are sent through the optic nerve and directly to your brain, causing you to see light. Jim, it's amazing. You'll be able to identify shadows, Jim." The excitement in Bones' voice was palpable, but Jim's stomach churned with trepidation. "Eventually, even outlines of those shadows. And...maybe...someday it will be more. We'll take this one step at a time."

"What if it doesn't work?" Jim had to ask, not wanting their hopes to crash - or his own.

"It will work, Jim," Spock said quietly beside him.

"It will, huh?" Jim almost smiled, thinking that those words were awfully familiar but Bones turned on the device. Distracted, Jim blinked rapidly, his eyes adjusting to various, obtuse shapes and shades. "Shadows," he muttered, squinting.

"It's amazing," Bones laughed. "I wish I could be experiencing this change with you, Jim."

Bones sounded like a kid. As happy as Jim was that his best friend was happy, amazing would be seeing as he once had. "It's all a blur, Bones."

"It will be for today, Jim," Bones chuckled. "It'll get better as your brain adjusts to seeing light. Until you get used to this, you may not be able to see our exact outlines but you will know that someone is in front of you."

"Like now?" Jim asked, hesitant to believe that the enormous looking blob in front of him could even be a human being.

"What do you think?" The voice and shadow asked.

Jim swallowed and nodded quietly, attempting to trace the outline of Bones. He was amazed, even when the shadow filled his vision.

"Are you coming closer?" Jim asked, hesitant.

"Yep." Bones laughed. "Jim? You alright?"

A long shadow crept up to his shoulder, light from the left distracting him. Something pricked behind Jim's eyes when the weight of Bones' hand made contact, and it wasn't the lenses causing the burning sensation. He was seeing his best friend, albeit blurry and without any color and as a grayish blob, for the first time in weeks.

"Yes," he whispered, slightly mesmerized. He held his hand in front of him, clenching and unclenching his fist as he followed the shadowy movements. "I'm fine. I'm...Bones? I don't know what to say."

"Jim, you don't have to say anything. I'm glad you're pleased," Bones cleared his throat. "Spock believes there will be a way to do more for you, especially if we use nanotechnology. But, for now I think this is enough, especially since you'll have to adjust and retrain your depth perception. We have another lesson that may be of help with that."

"Another?" Jim said, leery of more. As they explained to him the next lesson, Jim learned that his instinctive wariness served him well.

He hadn't realized all that he had to do for this mission and despite these positive developments, Jim found himself ill prepared for the next step. In fact, he was utterly horrified. And he didn't like it, especially as it began to overshadow his previous happiness. He didn't like it one damn bit.

"Jim, say something," Bones said softly.

"No," Jim gritted. "I'm not learning how to do that."

"Jim, you cannot go on this mission without learning how to properly use the phaser," Spock repeated. "Now that you can distinguish between light and darkness, Dr. McCoy and I concur that this skill would be of use to you for your safety."

"No." Jim cringed and held his arms rigid and as close to his body as possible.

The admiral had told him to take small steps and not force these changes. It seemed they wanted to force him into changing altogether now. Jim wanted to do what was required so he could remain on this ship with his friends - but this was against what the Re'an believed. This...this had to be against what he believed, then, too. Jim clenched his hands into fists. He couldn't. He wouldn't. This was going too far. These phasers were bound to be one of the weapons the Re'an used against themselves - and now the Re'an were gone. All of them, except Soona and Jim.

"Jim, you are not inflicting harm on anyone by properly learning to use the phaser. It is a precaution. We wish to equip you with this particular skill to use in an emergency," Spock said. "You cannot proceed with the mission if you do not learn to use the phaser and practice visualizing your target."

"Then I will not go on the mission." Jim set his jaw, his anger rising by the second.

"If that is your final answer, I must inform you that there will be consequences." Spock said firmly. "This is a lesson you will take regardless of any mission."

Jim couldn't help his eyes from widening at the unyielding form in front of him. How could they even discipline him for this? It wasn't like he had anything they could take away...Jim blinked, realizing that...maybe he did.

"Coffee?" He hedged quietly. He'd enjoyed the one cup allotted him by his doctor every day for the past four mornings. It was already something he looked forward to and expected. One of those days he'd received two cups.

"Perhaps." Spock said, his voice cool and detached. Jim swallowed, knowing there was more. Baths? Tea? And he was right. He listened as Spock explained the consequences. Baths and tea were still allowed but reduced to almost nothing. They wanted him as part of the landing party this badly? Still, Jim refused to change his mind. Maybe this was merely a test of wills. If dumping his clothes out was a lot like the old him, maybe this was, too.

He had gone without many things at various times in his short life. He could manage without these luxuries just fine. He lifted his chin, making certain he first stared at Spock's shadowy form and then at Bones'. "I won't do it."

"Buddy, I know this is tough, but think of the risks if you don't learn." Bones' gentle drawl began to encroach on Jim's resolve.

"Obviously, being blind and holding one of those things is a danger in itself," Jim said shortly, cross with both himself and them. He was mad at himself for being mad in the first place when he didn't want to be upset. This had been a good day - so far. A really good one. Until this thing with the phaser showed up. He was upset with them because Bones was being too nice and withheld information and Spock...Spock was too cool and logical and also withheld information. It was infuriating. He'd told Archer that it wasn't upsetting to him that they kept things from him, but now...now he hated they knew things and he didn't.

He looked away from them both.

"Because your vision has improved - "

"Improved?" Jim scoffed, rudely interrupting Spock. "I see blobs. Gray blobs and black ones. White blobs and...ghostly blobs."

"Jim," Bones sighed. "It will get better. It won't be exactly what you or I ultimately want, but it will be an improvement and I think we'll find a way to fix it completely."

" - this skill is attainable, Jim. Furthermore, knowing how to safely use the phaser would not only protect you but those around you," Spock added.

Those around him? Jim tilted his head, mouth pressed thin in displeasure. He hadn't thought of that. As much as he hated to admit it, Spock was right.

"It is set to stun, and you won't carry one yourself while you're on Letyra. Ensign Dorle will have one. Security...as well as Spock." Bones rested a hand on Jim's shoulder. "If there is a situation where lives are in danger, it is necessary that you learn how to use a phaser properly for the sake of everyone around you in that emergency. Being blind does not excuse you from this lesson, and now that your vision has changed, you need to know that you can do this. Will you allow Spock to teach you, Jim? I'm afraid we will have to be firm and you will remain on the Enterprise as a result tomorrow if you refuse."

A wave of defeat washed over him as he considered relinquishing another part of himself, a part belonging to the once peaceful Re'an.

"Jim?" Bones squeezed his shoulder.

"How would you like to lose piece after piece of who you were?" Jim whispered before he could stop himself. "And then struggle to find the person you used to be before that but you couldn't even remember who that was?"

Bones sighed. "I wouldn't like it at all, Jim, and I can't pretend to understand what you're going through. But I do know that I would like it even less if my friends were harmed and I could have stopped it all if I hadn't been such a stubborn idiot."

Jim liked that thought even less, too. He held out his hand. Spock placed the phaser in Jim's hand, covering it with both of his own. Spock then proceeded with the lesson as if Jim hadn't protested at all.

Despite the murkiness of the shadows, he didn't miss many targets, however large they were. He knew how to visualize. He remembered the instant Spock put the phaser in his hand. He recalled learning to shoot at shadows at a tender age in a cold, miserable cave and then in a darkened, hellish cell. Then, he'd shot thieves and pirates, abusive step-fathers and murderous governors. Now, he shot at murky, thin forms who'd stolen both his present and past and at vague shadows mocking his vision. He felt no satisfaction when they told him muscle memory had aided in his retraining. He did what he was told because he did not want his stubbornness to be the reason that a mission failed or, worse, the very reason for more blood on his hands.

 

* * *

 

Jim stretched out on his gray bed and drew his gray arms behind his head as he stared up at the gray ceiling he couldn't see save for its shadowed and distorted rectangular shape.

"You did good today, Jim," Bones said.

The day had been long. Too long.

Jim nodded, jaw clenched as it was when he'd held the phaser. The doctor sank onto the edge of the bed beside him and Jim fought the urge to scoot away. He'd prefer to be alone but when he heard another pair of footsteps, he knew they weren't going to allow him that luxury.

"Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?" Bones asked quietly.

"I didn't like my last lesson," Jim said flatly.

"It was necessary for the team's safety." Spock's explanation was expected, but Jim still exhaled a short breath in irritation.

He shouldn't even be going on this mission. Didn't he endanger his crew on the last one? Didn't they remember that?

"This troubles you?" Spock asked.

Despite the cloud now swirling in his mind, Jim detected a bit of indignation in the Vulcan's voice and his questioning through their bond. As Jim tried to come up with an explanation for his reaction, Bones commed Nurse Chapel. At the word 'sedative,' Jim lifted his head, squinting at the distracting light through what had to be his doorway to his bedroom before shifting his eyes and glaring at the shadow he knew to be Bones.

"The hell I'm being sedated tonight," he bit out. "I'm mad. Not high on coffee."

"Jim, don't fight me on this," Bones said in that tone Jim knew better than to argue with. "Tomorrow is a big day. Today was just as big. You need to rest. You need to relax your mind and your eyes and you're not going to be able to do that if you're stressed and uptight."

"I'm not the one who insisted that I learn to use a phaser," Jim muttered under his breath.

"You already knew how to use it, Jim," Bones said in a quiet voice. "You've used it plenty of times before. You just forgot, buddy."

Tears pricked Jim's eyes. "I...I know that."

"Do you?" Bones asked softly.

"I don't want to talk about it," Jim whispered tightly. He hated it when Bones was extra kind. He liked it better when gruff Bones came out. It hurt less. He already hurt too much and was trying to cover up his pain with anger. His chest constricted even more as if to prove the point.

"But we do," Bones said. "We can't do anything else until we've resolved what's going on through that head of yours."

"Let Spock tell you." Jim turned on his side, away from Bones. It was immature, but he did it anyways.

"No," Bones' tone cooled. "That's not happening, Jim. We're all adults here and if you're having a pity party, then we _will_ reconsider you coming with us tomorrow."

"It would be best if you tell the doctor your concerns, Jim," Spock said gently.

It was that unexpected and compassionate voice which undid him. A tear streaked down Jim's face. He wiped it away hastily. "I remember...you being hurt, Bones...because of me..."

"Jim?" Bones' voice teemed with confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Poison," Jim whispered. "You were poisoned. They used you to get to me."

Bones swore under his breath. "How much do you remember of that, Jim?"

Jim shook his head. He didn't want to talk about it or the Re'an, and as he clenched his eyes shut and pulled his hat over his ears, the drowning feeling threatened to pull him under and never give him back.

"Jim," Spock's voice was close to his ear his breath tickled his cheek and, surprisingly, his hand rested on Jim's very shoulder. "Do you recall the place I helped you find when you realized you were captain of the Enterprise?"

"Yes," Jim whispered, squeezing his eyes even tighter. "It was...safe."

"You will need to find it again," Spock said. "You are approaching a dangerous memory and it is too soon for you to recall this."

"But, I thought you'd want me to remember." Jim choked back on a sob as a Re'an prepared to shoot a dart at Bones, a dart tipped with poison.

"Not this one. Not tonight." Urgency crept into Spock's voice.

Jim's eyes flew open as the dart flew into Bones' neck. Bones was going to die...his friend was going to die if Jim didn't do this...if he...if...

"You must listen to me, Jim," Spock said. Jim jolted, the Vulcan's firm and abrupt voice cutting through the memory. "Close your eyes."

Heat radiated from Spock's hands. It felt nice. Good. Jim's eyes grew heavy of their own accord, and somehow, two sets of hands brought him to lay on his back. Bones brushed his forehead. "Jim, that's better. Just relax."

Spock's hands were doing that for him, he tried to say, but every bone and muscle of his body felt like liquid under Spock's touch. Jim sunk into the mattress. He found the place Spock told him to find. It was an addictive place full of the happiness of his friends and his crew. Seconds before he felt a familiar pinch in his neck, he sighed, content to be there again. He almost felt guilty, for he knew he was leaving another mess behind him.

But that guilt was no match to the guilt he felt the next day.

Jim came out of the memory and felt it shatter like one would emerge from a horrid nightmare. Chest heaving, his thoughts scattered like wild, hunted animals. Sweat poured down his face and neck, coating his shirt and soaking it through. A sob shook Jim's body and arms that weren't his tightened around his chest.

Then, Jim remembered. Spock. Spock was with him, holding him as they sat on the ground. He held him through the worst of the mental attack on the planet, the shattering being the second one Jim had experienced - and by far the worst. He didn't understand why, but Spock had cleaved himself to Jim the second he'd gone down on his knees in agony. Bones wasn't there, and Jim couldn't remember where the doctor had gone. Or why he'd left them by the pond. Had it been a wild animal? A botanist injured?

Jim groaned. Whatever had attacked his mind, it was not over. Sharp remnants pierced his head and body, dissolving at an excruciatingly slow pace. By the time the attack stopped, Spock's arms had almost squeezed the breath out of him. Jim reached up and gripped Spock's wrist, attempting to pull his arm away from his body.

"Spock?" Jim coughed. "I...I'm okay now."

Spock held fast. Huffing a breath, Jim leaned his head back against the Vulcan's chest, hoping to gain his attention.

"Spock?" Jim forced himself to relax and give himself slack in Spock's powerful grasp. "I'm okay...and you can - "

Spock's arms went unnaturally limp around him. Before Jim could react, the Vulcan collapsed to the ground behind him, meeting the ground with a sickening thud.

"Spock?" Jim's voice cracked, weathered by the mental attack. He twisted his body, getting on his hands and knees. Jim's hands fumbled in the grass. For a second he forgot what he was looking for. Or who. It was dark and it shouldn't be. He didn't want it to be anymore. How could he help Spock like this? And Bones was gone. And he was blind. He didn't want to be. And...

Jim's breath rushed in and out, shallow and oxygen deprived. "No, no. Spock. You can't...you can't do this. You have to be okay..."

Jim's panic swelled before he finally discovered Spock's leg. His heart in his throat, Jim patted Spock's body until he also found his hip, torso, and finally his shoulder. Jim slid his hands up to Spock's face. His friend had hit the ground hard, and Jim feared it had been his head that had received the brunt of the fall.

"Spock? Please, answer me." He gently cradled Spock's face in his hands, brushing his hair back as he checked the back of his head for blood. He found nothing, felt nothing wet on his fingers. Still, his friend did not stir. "Spock?"

A few seconds passed before Jim realized that Spock had to be unconscious. "Shit," Jim whispered. He grabbed Spock's arm, running his hand along the Vulcan's arm until he found his wrist. He felt for a pulse. It was faster than a human's but slower than what he expected a Vulcan's should be, and his skin cooler to the touch than Jim ever remembered. Like Jim's skin was cool now. Something had happened to Spock, maybe because of Jim. They'd shared the mental attack because Spock was his friend and felt compelled to help him.

Jim's stomach lurched. It was just like when Bones had been poisoned. They'd found Jim's weak spot and used the doctor to get to Jim. They'd poisoned Bones. If Spock helped Jim shoulder whatever happened in his mind and took the worst of it, Jim would never...he'd never forgive himself. No one should. He had to make sure this never happened again. He'd do whatever it took to stop this. He'd beg or plead or...

A desperate cry rose from his chest. He didn't understand any of this and as he took steps to close the gap between what he thought and what his friends knew, it felt altogether too dangerous. Jim wiped his face, trying to pull himself together.

"No. Spock? Please. Wake up," Jim's hands fell to Spock's chest. He shook him gently. "I don't...I don't know what to do to help you. Bones isn't here...and...I...maybe...I'll try to comm someone...I'll try to contact...the Enterprise..."

Hysteria bubbled up from Jim's throat. Of course Jim knew to do that. What had happened to him? Who the hell had rewired his brain? He should have found Spock's comm immediately. Why hadn't he? He should have realized his device had been turned off, too, because he'd had a headache, but he forgot. He forgot, and he never would have done things like this before. Jim laughed, the hysteria growing. He'd been captain. A damned captain.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

Jim clenched his hands, his fingers curling around Spock's shirt. He closed his eyes and tamped down the panic and the questions, inhaling as slowly as possible. He had to remain calm, like a captain would. A captain wouldn't panic, and for the first time since the mental attack, he took stock of what was around him. It had been a pleasant spot where he worked. Relaxing. Safe. He smelled the clean, fresh air and the plants encircling them, and it grounded him. Spock would be fine. Jim knew what to do. He would use Spock's comm to contact the Enterprise and they'd be beamed to the ship in no time at all. Spock would be fine. He had to be...

 _Snap_.

Jim froze, almost certain a twig had cracked behind him. He hastily exhaled and wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand. He had to keep moving. After another crackle and the sure sound of approaching footsteps, Jim's heart thudded in his ears.

 _Snap_.

He began to trace Spock's body with his hands, all the way down to the Vulcan's hip to find his belt. Jim removed the phaser and comm, fumbling again in his darkness and almost dropping them when the grass rustled, a putrid odor wafting his way in the wind. Jim choked on the offensive smell as he gripped the weapon. He hefted the phaser's weight in his hand and checked to see that the phaser was set to stun. He turned his own device back on at the last second before he lifted his eyes. He tried to remember all they taught him yesterday, tried to focus as he distinguished between the shadows. He stood and pivoted on his heel in front of Spock, his surroundings becoming a massive blur of light and dark. He raised his phaser, keeping it close to his chest.

It was too late. Jim's breath caught, and he squeezed his eyes shut, cringing.

Something had touched his cheek.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments this last chapter! Those were wonderful to read and now here we are with the continuation of that heartless cliffhanger. Many thanks to the talented Rubyhair for going above and beyond and helping me with plot holes/points and more! I am enjoying our collaboration on Indigenous. Although I do research for the medical side of things, I am no doctor so please be kind 'when' I make mistakes. :-) Hope you all enjoy this next chapter.

"I'll take it from here, Leonard," M'Benga briefly lifted his eyes from his patient. "I'm sure you need to speak with Jim."

M'Benga and two nurses followed the hoverbed to prepare for the impending surgery. Jim was next on McCoy's own agenda, as M'Benga had implied. Although he carried concern for Jim's physical health, of course, McCoy needed to check on Jim primarily for psychological reasons since the mission had gone awry. Spock and Jim were both safe and on board the Enterprise, but they had been a half kilometer away from those beasts themselves while engrossed with their own separate research. Ensign Dorle worked with the other group early on, unfortunately at the same time the creatures chose to reveal their territorial tendencies.

"That had been close," McCoy murmured to himself, running his hands under the sonic cleanser. "Too close."

McCoy's hands in the botanist's abdominal cavity, providing pressure, was the only thing stopping the ensign from bleeding out up until one minute ago. It happened incredibly fast. The pair of nimble creatures burst through a wooded area but security reacted well, withstanding the attack except for the one serious injury within the small research party. Covered with short, brown fur except for the long, black fur of their bellies, the sturdy, seven foot creatures occupied a nest nearby which employed a protective shield their scanners failed to pick up. Their claws extended from humanly hands but their slender necks gave them an awkward appearance - and the stench radiating off of them contributed to their general and overall ugliness. McCoy almost shivered. He didn't even want to think about Jim having been so close to this catastrophe, and he didn't want Jim to dwell on that thought, either.

_"Bridge to McCoy."_

"Yes, Uhura."

_"Mr. Scott is on his way to the transporter room. You're to meet him there, prepared for any emergency."_

Not liking the worry he heard in Uhura's voice, McCoy requested more information."Why?"

Uhura hesitated. _"I can't sense Spock as strongly through our bond. He's not answering me or his comms."_

"He's not on the bridge? Spock and Jim intended to return immediately to the Enterprise."

_"Negative. Both the commander and captain are on Letyra."_

McCoy's heart dropped. He'd have to be prepared for anything. "I'm on my way. McCoy out."

Scott glanced up from the transporter console as McCoy arrived with an armory - two hoverbeds and three nurses besides Christine.

"Where are they?" McCoy scowled at the barren platform and cut straight to the point. "I have a feeling Jim had an episode after I left. Spock may have tried to shield Jim since I wasn't there. Those creatures won't be down for long."

"I'm workin' on it," Scott muttered.

"Is there a good reason for why this is taking so long?" McCoy ran a hand over his face. Every second put Jim and Spock at risk.

"Dr. McCoy, Chekov gave me their coordinates," Scott shook his head and looked him straight in the eye. "Only you're nae goin' ta like it. They have a wee bit o' company."

McCoy didn't have to be told twice. "More of those beasts? Get Jim and Spock outta there, Mr. Scott!"

"I cannae beam the captain or the commander back," Scott said. "There's one hoverin' over Spock and the other..."

"What?" McCoy barked. "The other what?"

"Jim's movin' right along with it." Scott finished, watching McCoy gravely. "We cannae beam those creatures aboard the ship, not knowin' what they are capable of. We're goin' to have to go down. I already alerted security. They're on their way."

"I can't wait for security. Beam me down there, now. It's a goddamned medical emergency! Spock could be unconscious and who knows what state Jim will be in." McCoy didn't know what to think about Jim battling one of those beasts by himself. From what he saw yesterday, Jim was beginning to show the spitfire and backbone that had helped make him captain. More of the characteristics of the old Jim could emerge and he could rise to the occasion. Or, Jim could revert to the Re'an tendencies he'd been given through the meld and all would be lost. Either way, there was no way in hell he was going to waste another second aboard the Enterprise when Jim and Spock needed him. The worse case scenario - and it had happened. "Christine, I'll need you to come with me, too."

"Don't worry, Dr. McCoy." Scott handed him a phaser. "I was plannin' on ye returnin', but I cannae allow ye to go without security."

McCoy took the weapon from Scott, ruefully comparing his own aversion of phasers to Jim's, and rushed onto the platform. He never thought for a moment that Jim would have to make use of that lesson yesterday so soon. McCoy looked up in surprise to see Sulu standing beside him, expression grim.

"I asked Mr. Scott if I could tag along. I hope you don't mind," Sulu said.

"Sulu, you're a good man," McCoy nodded, three security officers efficiently joining them on the platform.

 

* * *

 

What Jim suspected to be a padded finger with a wickedly long and curved nail traced his jawline and his neck, sending a chill straight down Jim's spine. It pressed deeper into his skin at the base of his throat. His blood pulsed but he held his breath, refusing to swallow and provoke whatever it was that had swiftly crept up to him.

He regretted his dulled reaction to this unknown creature beside him. This was not Jim Kirk. It wasn't the Kirk he was beginning to remember and yet because of his inability to react intelligently, his utter foolishness had placed both Spock and himself in a predicament that endangered their lives.

The finger sunk painfully into Jim's skin, hinting at aggression. Jim tamped down his insecurities and opened his eyes into narrow slits, determined to give this thing a fight. The creature's stench engulfed him and he could hardly breathe without gagging. As he pushed all of his fear aside and dragged his eyes wide open, he was finally able to distinguish between the thing in front of him and the trees and plants surrounding them. The grayish form was abnormally large, its arms at least triple the size of Jim's own.

Perhaps sensing Jim's new awareness, the blur of gray moved, simultaneously wrapping itself around Jim and trapping his arms flat against his body before he could think of raising the phaser. He couldn't have moved quicker. Not only had the touch startled him but Jim's thoughts clashed, those tainted by the Re'an now in a battle of wills against those tempered by the Kirk he had once been. Beads of sweat gathered along Jim's brow, rubbing against with the creature's heavily furred underbelly. His stomach rolled as the beast's stench hit him even worse than it had before. Jim gagged on rising vomit, unable to stop what was coming, and an indeterminate amount spewed unmercifully out of his mouth.

He groaned. He wished he'd known more about the old him and the captain's skills, for he wasn't sure what the hell he was supposed to do - other than shoot it and protect his unconscious first officer. Unfortunately, the phaser was in a precarious position, lodged against Jim's stomach and the creature. The phaser pointed towards Jim, and his finger was on the trigger. Seeing no possible way he could maneuver the phaser to point at his captor, he inched his finger away from the trigger.

A growl vibrated against Jim's body and the creature shifted. Jim moved his head away from his captor as much as possible and attempted to peer out around the bulky shadow. Another lumbered through the trees.

"Shit," Jim whispered. He trailed the murky shape as it stopped just short of them. Jim held his breath for what seemed liked minutes. Neither creature stirred until his captor rested its hand on Jim's head and tugged on his hat.

"No. Don't..." Jim said, disgusted that the offensive creature had even touched one of his possessions. "That's...that's my hat. No...don't take..."

Jim groaned again as the rumbling creature swept the warm covering off his head. The creature held the object in its hand, emitting obnoxiously loud sniffing sounds as the pure novelty of the hat kept the creature's attention. As its claws were likely making numerous holes in his favorite hat, Jim resigned himself to a future of begging Uhura's forgiveness. With any luck, she'd have pity on him and knit him another one to keep his head warm until his hair grew back.

"You like the hat? Keep it then," Jim muttered. "It's all yours, big guy."

At least it was distracted. Jim lifted his hand and deliberately dragged his comm out from under the beast's hairy belly. He was about to press the comm when his captor startled Jim with a bursting growl. It acted as a signal to the second creature behind him, and a blurry shape came out of nowhere and swiped at Jim, tearing the comm from his grasp.

"Dammit," Jim hissed and drew his throbbing limb to his chest. His captor returned to his inspection of the hat, and Jim lost sight of the second creature. He had to get that comm, danger or no danger. These things appeared friendly but they were quick to react. And big. Really big.

Jim glanced at the ground, twisting his head behind him, searching for where the comm landed. After a moment, he thought he saw it, a smaller but darker shade of gray. He could be wrong, but he assumed it was worth a shot until he realized it was too far away for him to reach down and grab it. He was altogether too clumsy, thanks to his poor depth perception, and he was down to the use of one hand. He took a hasty breath, realizing the situation had worsened beyond these things.

He had bigger things to take care of now - like the creature hovering possessively over Spock.

Determined to get himself out of his captor's grasp and adjust his hold on the phaser so he could actually shoot it at the creature without harming himself, Jim nudged the offensive thing beside him. This had gone on for too long, and he was desperate and his arm a massive, throbbing mess. He knew nothing about these things except they looked like huge gray blobs to him, had a rancid smell and a penchant for growling, moved swiftly, and grew very large claws. The latter were attached to powerful arms, capable of crushing a mere human.

Instincts told Jim he was running out of time before one of the beastly shadows decided to maul them both.

Jim's decisions would most likely enrage his opposition, but it wasn't like that had never happened before when he faced an enemy. He'd most likely die in the process, not like that had never happened either, if his memory served him right. Bones would yell at him for taking this life-endangering risk, but that was a noted, everyday occasion in the old Jim's life.

The new him would fit in just fine.

Jim nudged the creature again. The creature responded with its usual growl at the slight movement, but Jim had had enough. The second creature inspected Spock all too closely, and the two now appeared to be one enormous gray, distorted shape. Jim had to get them both the hell out of here and to do that, he grasped onto the small part that had emerged the past few days. The part that was the old him, the captain who could lead and inspire his crew.

He remembered things, numerous details of people and events but he could not, in essence, feel many of them as if they were his own and woven into his skin. They were merely images and ideas being filtered and re-catalogued in his brain but not as fully engrossed, emotional imprints. The gaps in his memory saddened him, especially the holes regarding his captaincy. But what he did remember were faint brushes of his past, with a few memories filling him great emotion. He grasped on to every single one of those precious few in his mind, both the good and bad, but especially those of the people he loved most - Bones, Spock, and his crew.

Those memories were his and that had to be enough for now. As difficult as it had been, Jim had relinquished his passiveness the instant he took possession of that phaser yesterday. He had to move on with what he'd been given, and most importantly, he wanted to.

Jim wasn't their captain as his crew remembered but he knew in this very moment he wanted to be the captain they needed. Maybe if he survived this, he could someday become that man again for them.

It would be worth whatever sacrifices he had to make to get himself there.

"Move," Jim snarled, elbowing his captor with even more force and directly into the hollow, sensitive part of its stomach.

The creature holding him whined, its sound deep and regretful when it took an unsteady step backwards. But Jim didn't think for a single second that this hulk of a growling creature could maintain a tame cover.

Empowered by his own actions, Jim growled. "Yeah? You didn't like that? I don't like you poking at me, either, you overgrown hat thief. Two can play at this game." The gray form responded with a long, rumbling sound. Jim found a better grip on his weapon and approached the creature as if it threatened every single member of his crew and Jim was the only thing standing in its way of mass destruction. "Don't take this personally, but I can't have you pawing at my first officer."

Jim raised his weapon at his companion - and fired his phaser.

 

* * *

 

McCoy spied Jim first. The one creature he saw standing hauled Jim off of his feet and, in turn, hoisted him high in the air only to drop him to the ground like he was a sack of potatoes. A flash of pain crossed Jim's face as McCoy heard the sickening thud of the impact and his best friend's distressed cry.

McCoy took off running, making the difficult choice to bypass the still Vulcan on the ground and leave him to Christine's care. He feared for Spock's condition, but McCoy's duty was first to their captain. After witnessing the battering Jim had just received, Jim would be facing, at the very least, a severe concussion and cracked ribs. Spock had a hard head and more than likely he would remain stable until they made it back to the Enterprise if, indeed, he'd shielded Jim and thus reacted to Jim's memory shatter as before.

Security took their shots, the creature appearing invincible until Sulu fired at the creature twice. Jim struggled to his hands and knees, one arm not fully functioning, and scrambled a few feet away and barely avoiding the beast as it collapsed. McCoy reached Jim as soon as he fell onto his back, eyes clenched shut as he gasped for breath.

"Jim, let me see those baby blues," McCoy said firmly, mindful of the blood covering Jim's shirt, arms, and torso as he used the tricorder. "Look at me, alright?"

"B...Bones?" Jim mumbled, blinking slowly. "Spock. Something's wrong. He...he...shielded me and..."

"Jim, you gotta remain still," McCoy ordered, holding Jim down as he stubbornly attempted to lift himself up, no doubt determined to find Spock. "You're bleeding and I have to find out where it's coming from."

"Arm." Jim shuddered.

McCoy pressed his mouth flat when he found the token gashes the creature's elongated claws left behind. McCoy worked to temporarily stop the blood flow, hating Jim's grimaces of pain. It could be worse but surgery was necessary to repair the wounds, as well as several rounds of dermal regeneration. He took further inventory of Jim's condition, noting that although Jim's blood loss wasn't life threatening, a blood transfusion was necessary. With some effort, McCoy pulled out a bloodied chunk of the creature's fur stuck to Jim's wounds and laid the matted, odorous fur aside. If alien bacteria found its way into Jim's system, and it was clear that it had even without a test, then McCoy wasn't messing around and an antibiotic was inevitable. The last thing Jim needed was a setback. This most certainly qualified as one but McCoy was determined he'd keep Jim's sickbay stay to a minimum.

"Your head hurting you, Jim?"

McCoy expected a no in true Kirkian fashion but Jim responded with a grimace and his eyes fluttered shut, another shudder coursing through his upper body. Jim's body temperature and possible shock caused the moderate shivering but McCoy was prepared.

"Hey, stay with me, Jim." McCoy gently slapped his cheek.

Jim's eyes jerked open, his teeth chattering.

"How's that sight of yours?" McCoy asked firmly. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"I s...s..see shadows, Bones. Like b..b..before. B...Bones, you need t...t...to che..check on Spock. Please, B...Bones. He's..."

"He'll be fine, Jim. Nurse Chapel is tending to him," McCoy said. He checked his scanner again and could have winced at the reading. Thirty-four point two degrees Celsius. He pulled out the hypos he prepared earlier: a pain medication and a combination of buspirone and a lower dose of meperidine to counteract shivering without adding respiratory distress. After spreading the warming blanket he'd added specifically for any emergency involving Jim, he didn't hesitate to pull out the extra blanket he'd added to the medkit on a whim, either. "I'm going to give you something for the pain, Jim, as well as the shivering."

He spoke to give Jim proper warning since he knew his friend couldn't distinguish these specific movements - but it had the opposite desired effect. Jim's shoulders shook harder before McCoy even raised his hand.

"Relax, buddy." McCoy soothed, brushing some dirt off of Jim's forehead. "It'll hurt less, you know that."

"B...but....Spock...."

"Spock is doing better than you, right now, okay?" McCoy said smoothly. "And so that he doesn't worry about you, I need you to relax, alright?"

Jim exhaled a breath, allowing McCoy to administer the drugs in those few seconds. After the quick pinches of the hypos, Jim's eyes frantically searched for McCoy's face, and his uninjured hand reached up from under the blankets, fumbling at first until he had gathered McCoy's shirt in a loose fist.

"He...he....was unconscious, Bones," Jim insisted. "You c...can't allow him to do that...to help me with my m...m...mind like that...it...it's dangerous..."

"It won't happen again," McCoy answered, the white lie settling distastefully in his stomach as he glanced down at Jim. "Spock's fine, and I need you to be still so you can get warm."

Jim nodded slowly. McCoy had no idea whether or not a memory shatter would happen again, but he couldn't allow Jim's stress level to skyrocket and he couldn't sedate him, not with the concussion on top of these episodes. He needed Jim awake in order to watch his neural activity closely. He suspected he could ward off another memory shatter or at least prepare Jim for an impending one if he observed Jim's brain patterns - and that forced McCoy into a corner. He'd use local anesthesia while he repaired Jim's arm and considering Jim's fairly recent experience without touch sensation, it was the last thing on earth McCoy wanted to do to Jim.

No matter the actions he took, McCoy continued to inflict more pain upon his best friend.

Jim's eyes finally glazed over. Relieved that the medication had kicked in to provide some level of comfort for Jim for all of his injuries - including a dislocated shoulder and several cracked ribs - McCoy gently pried his friend's hand from his shirt. He placed Jim's hand carefully on his chest underneath the warming blankets, satisfied to see that Jim's shivering had also eased. McCoy sighed, staring down at his best friend. Jim knew something, or at least suspected, and this indicated that more of the old Jim had slipped out - and a can of worms, opened.

An unprecedented wave of relief and anticipation washed over McCoy as he thought of finally being able to reveal the truth to Jim. He'd bore the weight of the mission for weeks, as had Spock. To be able to give Jim the proper understanding of his situation would be the right thing to do and the time for it couldn't have come fast enough.

They had crossed that bridge - McCoy could not allow Spock or Jim in the field until they found a solution to Jim's memory shattering. The implications cut deep and the danger inevitable, but McCoy had to push this troubling issue aside for now and focus on caring for what was right in front of him: his captain, whose penchant for risk-taking heroics transcended a devastating meld that, according to Spock and his contemporaries, possessed such strength and power no one had ever come across nor did they have the necessary knowledge to impart a resolution. That Spock even possessed the ability to help Jim through their bond was, in McCoy's professional opinion, nothing less than a goddamned miracle. But they needed more than that. The unconscious Vulcan twenty meters away proved it.

"Dr. McCoy," Sulu crouched beside them, but his words were quietly spoken and for the doctor only. "The area's secure. Nurse Chapel says Mr. Spock is unconscious, but stable. We'll beam back upon your word."

"We're ready now, Sulu," McCoy said.

"The captain got one." Sulu said, giving Jim a wry grin as he lifted his comm. "Nice shot."

McCoy couldn't help but allow his mouth to drop open as he stared down at Jim in shock.

"Five." Jim frowned. "Took five shots to take the bastard down, actually. Wasn't fast enough to get the other."

"You...you actually used the phaser?" McCoy asked.

Even blind, Jim never ceased to amaze him.

Jim squinted up at McCoy. "One of those things was a little...a little too close to my first officer, Bones. Couldn't let that happen. So I fired...to save Spock, my first officer."

They were going to be beamed back to the Enterprise at any second, but all McCoy wanted to do was to make sure he wasn't hearing things. McCoy's heart burst hearing the captain-like words flow from his best friend's mouth after all these weeks but he suppressed his reaction and treaded carefully, not wanting to error and say something that would force his friend to take a step back in his recovery.

"Your first officer, huh?" McCoy repeated casually.

"First officer." Jim murmured. "If my sight improves, someday, maybe, I can be your captain again. And be brave. Maybe even smart. I wasn't too smart today...should've acted faster..."

"You're our captain now, Jim, just like you've always been," McCoy said quietly. "And I know no one braver than my captain."

"Lemme take a bath...when we get back?" Jim's eyes fluttered shut.

"Only if you stay awake," McCoy patted him on the cheek. "Jim, you have a concussion. I can't have you going to sleep on me."

"You're a grouch when I have a concussion." Jim frowned at him through heavily lidded eyes. "And I mean it. I need a bath. Do they look as bad as they smell? Can't imagine..."

"Kid, as soon as I fix your hand, you'll be sitting pretty in a tub, I promise." McCoy grunted. "And they are ugly. Horrendous. You really don't want to know."

"I guess I got the better end of the deal," Jim sighed.

"You were hit harder in the head than I thought." McCoy said.

"One hugged me."

McCoy swept his hand over Jim's forehead. "You're lovable like that."

"Then I threw up on it." Jim's head rolled to the side. "While it hugged me."

"No wonder you stink." McCoy's brow furrowed, his impatience rising. Jim's face had lost color in just seconds. It was taking too long to return to the Enterprise. "Stay with me, Jim."

"Bones," Jim whispered, staring up at him. His hand slipped out from underneath the blankets and he fingered a portion of McCoy's shirt. McCoy leaned in and barely caught Jim's soft words before their molecules separated. "When we get back...we need to talk."

But he recognized their captain, reflected in the depths of those pure cerulean eyes.

 

* * *

 

Jim closed his eyes as they transferred him from the beaming platform to a hoverbed, the motion and blur of light turning his stomach. A hand brushed his forehead and a familiar Southern drawl ordered those around them. He heard mere snatches of the words tossed above and around him, for whatever Bones had given him did more than take away pain - Jim felt sated and loose-limbed. Normally, or so he thought he remembered, that much drugging irritated him. He got the impression that he'd been a man who liked to be in control of himself. He found comfort in the fact that being drugged _still_ bothered him and as soon as the movements stopped making him feel like he was going to lose his lunch, Jim would insist that he speak with Bones about Spock.

He must had been more out of it than he thought. He didn't realize that they were in sickbay and his shoulder no longer dislocated until hands pulled his blankets off of him and cut his clothing from his body. His eyes opened at the rush of cool air and he shivered, feeling completely and helplessly conspicuous. Another chill went down his spine when hands placed something even colder on his scalp, and the sheet spread over his naked body.

"B...B...ones..." Jim called for his friend.

"We'll get you warm in a moment, Jim. I'm sorry. I know those things on your head are cold, not to mention your clothes were a mess. I thought maybe one of those smelly creatures were still hugging you," Bones' voice came from his left. Jim turned his head, peering at the light and a shadow that moved beside him. "That's what happens when you're all heroic and fight not one but two Sasquatches."

Jim snorted. "That wa...was...st..stupidi...t...ty."

"Stop beating yourself up, kid," Bones said. "If you hadn't acted, things may be worse right now. You did what you had to do, Jim. I can honestly say you did more than anyone else could have done in the same situation."

"Spock. Ho...how...is..?" Jim clenched his eyes shut when another cold wave swept over him, stealing his breath away.

"He's fine, and you are minutes away from surgery."

" **Bones** , I need to know." When Bones delayed in his reply, it was clear he had taken his best friend by surprise. Jim hadn't used the doctor's name that forcefully in a long, long time nor had he sounded so commanding. Sometime during this mission, he'd latched on to another part of his true self, and he was damn sure that he was going to use whatever pieces he remembered of the captain to get to the truth.

Bones sighed. "I can't let that be our focus right now, Jim - "

"This...can't happen...again. He could _die_ ," he said, emphasizing the heart of the matter.

Bones was quiet. "I need you to listen very carefully to me, Jim. I realize that and I know you realize that and that is why I am monitoring your brain activity very closely. Yes, Spock is unconscious, but I expect him to wake up soon, fit as a fiddle. I promise we will discuss this later. Now that I've told you this, I need you to remain calm so we can begin." Bones took a breath. "Other than feeling like you're on an ice planet again, are you doing alright? Do you feel any pain?"

"No pain," Jim blinked, then squinted as the lights dimmed and Bones' shadow waned. "Bones?"

"I'm right here, Jim," Bones squeezed his hand. Still worried for Spock, Jim didn't want Bones to let go, and surprisingly, the doctor didn't. "Jim, I have to explain what we need to do to prep you for surgery. The surgery itself will be a piece of cake, I promise, and the dermal regenerator will be your best friend for a few sessions."

"What'sit, Bones?" Jim asked, more calmly than he felt. He blamed the drugs again when his words began to slur but at least a soothing warmth crept from the tips of his toes up to his ears. "Drugged me?"

"Yes, but your speech and forgetfulness are also from that concussion."

"How's...Spock?" Jim's own words sounded far away from him.

"I already told you about Spock, Jim," Bones said gently. "He's gonna be fine."

"Oh." Jim blinked, not remembering that.

"Jim, I can't sedate you for the surgery on your arm, because I'm worried about that thick skull of yours. You're not totally aware of what's going on. We had to go with some more powerful drugs - and local anesthesia." Bones hesitated. "Do you know what this means?"

Jim tried to nod, honestly surprised that he did understand what that meant. His head felt thick and heavy but he managed to slur out that he did understand. He wouldn't be able to feel part of his body.

_He wouldn't be able to feel part of his body._

"Shit," he whimpered. "Bones..."

"I know, Jim, I know, but Nurse Chapel will be holding your hand just like I am, alright?" Bones voice soothed him in his ear. "The entire time we'll both be here, but I need to know you're alright with this before I begin. Your body will also be strapped down for safety."

He wasn't okay with any of it but he didn't have a choice. Jim swallowed uncomfortably. "Bones, hate that."

"I know and I'm sorry, buddy. It won't be long, I promise, Jim." Bones' voice cracked. "If there was a different way, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

Jim clenched his eyes shut. "I...'sfine."

"Anytime you feel it's not, let us know. If you can face Sasquatch blind, Jim, I know that you can do this," Bones said.

"No choice," Jim mumbled.

"Maybe there really isn't any choice, but you vocalizing that you can do this is exactly how you're going to get through it." Bones let go of his hand, a softer one taking its place.

"Bones," Jim said, welcoming the feeling as he felt himself drift off.

A warm hand swept over his forehead. "Captain, it's Nurse Chapel. Dr. McCoy is behind the curtain by your head, preparing to fix your arm. Keep your eyes open for me, Captain. Dr. McCoy is monitoring your brain during the surgery."

No other address seemed right. Jim's lips curved upward. "Cap'n, hmm?"

"I think you earned that title already. If I've heard correctly, you've proven you're still that man today," Christine said softly.

"Cap'n," he murmured, squinting up at her as the light behind her curiously caused her to appear angelic. He didn't think Nurse Chapel had ever appeared angelic to him before. She certainly never wore a halo until now. Maybe it was Bones' drugs, but it looked nice on her, and he wanted to hear that word again. "Say again?"

"I'd be honored to, Captain," she said lightly, squeezing his hand. He relaxed, not even noticing that he no longer felt his right shoulder down to his fingertips.

"You're...an angel," he murmured after a moment.

"Captain," she said softly, "I think that's the first time anyone ever said that I was angel. I am glad it was you who told me. Thank you, Captain."

"'Strue. Beautiful with halo."

"Captain, you definitely are feeling that cocktail the good doctor gave you." Christine chuckled and gave his hand a light squeeze.

"If you're finished flirtin' with Nurse Chapel, Jim," Bones grunted, "I'll have you know that we're just about ready to begin. See? I told you that you could do this."

Jim frowned. Being drugged didn't help his already shaky comprehension. "Flirting?"

"Giving a girl your attention to get their attention," Bones said dryly. "Like you're doing now with Nurse Chapel. You got her to call you captain four more times in under a minute and all you had to do was bat your pretty eyes at her, kid."

Jim widened his eyes, mortified. "What?"

Bones sniggered. "Jim, I hate to break it to you, but you're a damn good flirt. The thing is, despite what ya think and all that's changed for you, when you wear those hats of yours and blush like you're doing now, you still reel in the ladies like a pro."

 

* * *

 

Archer's chronometer inched past the morning hours and into the afternoon and now evening. He sighed, tapping four fingers on his PADD. What was that ancient Terran saying? The one his own mother quoted frequently? The watched pot never boils. He had one appointment remaining with yet another family adamant they were the long lost relatives of Soona, the woman Kirk and his crew rescued from Re'an V. He also had not heard yet from McCoy, which was his main concern. Since McCoy was a man of his word, Archer began to wonder of the success of the mission and contemplated contacting the Enterprise himself if he was not updated on the mission by the end of the day.

Enjoying retirement, Archer hadn't visibly been a part of Kirk's life at the Academy nor as he'd begun his captaincy. Archer remained behind the lines, of course. Politics had changed somewhat since then, and now Archer admittedly was no longer the same man he'd been before Khan had been loosed, Daystrom attacked, the Enterprise crippled...and Kirk and Pike killed.

He came out of retirement out of necessity, yes, but also to honor Pike's memory and the others who died. Since then, Archer had put more energy, time, and resources into Kirk and the Enterprise than anyone could possibly know. And Archer didn't want anyone to ever know.

He used the skills he'd acquired the past one hundred years or so to negotiate with other Federation member planets, compelling them to join in their search for a healer familiar with the Re'an. Weeks passed and there hadn't been a single lead. He also used the power he had to become the interviewer and final say of any family believing that the newly found young woman aboard the Enterprise was their long lost daughter, sister, or niece. The list was long and not a week went by when he didn't either speak to a tearful mother or a hopeful brother. After Kirk's sacrifice, he wanted no mistakes made. The fight against the Orion slave trade cultivated this massive missing persons database years ago and it spread across the Federation. As a Starfleet Admiral, he had every right to demand to be a part of this discovery process.

Archer sighed and packed up for the day, having heard, at last, that Kirk's condition was improved, but still precarious, and Spock's the same. That Spock and McCoy researched beyond what they included in their reports was correct. Especially Kirk's First Officer, as Spock relayed to Archer the communication that he had with members of his own species and countless others with telepathic powers. Archer promised them he was at work searching for someone who could help Jim in light of the new developments of these "memory shatters," sending them a memo two days ago that the search had spread, thanks to the cooperation of at least half of the Federation member planets.

The Re'an's secrecy surrounding their intricate telepathic ability had been a double-edged sword. Other species could not possibly begin to understand the complex telepathic system of the Re'an. Thus, the innocent succumbed to these powers. Neither were the Re'an able to maintain their way of life, although the Enterprise had been willing to help them find an alternative. The secrets of the Re'an had come at a great cost to all. In Archer's opinion, Kirk had paid that great cost.

Deciding the interested party had simply failed to appear, thus forfeiting their appointment, Archer grabbed his briefcase. He walked out his office door one hour after his normal time of departure.

"Shall I comm you, sir, if the family arrives after you're gone?" His assistant frowned up at him. "I am certainly surprised they are more than two hours late without a word. The committee said this very well may be the family of Soona. Her past matches up to the dates provided by the Enterprise, as well as initial facial scans, Admiral. Are you sure you don't..."

Archer shook his head. "Not today. I need to check on a few other things...people, mainly."

"How is he?" She asked softly.

It was unnecessary to state the name of whom she inquired, and Archer replied in no other way than he knew how - firmly and with confidence. "Improving. How could he not? He has the best damn doctor and the best damn First Officer beside him."

Archer commed his wife as he waited by the turbolift and noted only ten minutes had passed since he last checked his chronometer. He'd contact the Enterprise as soon as he returned home to check on Kirk's condition once again, and he'd step into the lift once the elderly woman made her way out.

But she didn't, merely removed a purple head covering and gazed at him with her dark, almost woeful eyes. He calmly noted she was a Betazoid. "You are Admiral Archer," she said in a rich, alto voice.

"Yes," Archer nodded, giving her a smile. "And you are?"

"Sonja's grandmother, Elise."

Archer searched the woman's deeply lined face. If he went by that name only, this certainly could be the family they were looking for. "You have an appointment with me, although you were not listed as one of the guardians of the young woman in question."

"No," she said slowly, her eyes piercing him. "Her parents refused to come if I planned to attend this meeting, as well. I miss my granddaughter, Admiral. How could I not come? My own daughter shunned her Betazoid heritage upon Sonja's kidnapping, but that is of no consequence. Before these doors opened, I sensed why my presence here is necessary. It is not for Sonja."

Archer frowned. That made no sense. "The young woman on the Enterprise may very well be your granddaughter. Surely you wish to be reunited with her."

She tilted her head, her smile warm but subtle. "Admiral, I believe that I am here for Captain Kirk."


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the wonderful comments last chapter. I know that was a big chapter, and it was refreshing for me as the writer to bring Jim back more and more! We're getting closer to some healing for Jim. It's on the horizon, and there are still some rocky times, I'll be honest. Ahem. I'll be really honest. This situation is tough for Jim. It's tough for Spock and McCoy....and they may need to get just a few more things smoothed out before we get there. Just a few- don't worry. I see them more as growing pains. 
> 
> On that note, with this post, I actually have the next chapter almost finished (yay!), which hasn't happened for awhile! That means a quicker update than my usual weekly post. 
> 
> Again, I am not a doctor but I do research for anything medical related. Please forgive any mistakes. Also, I can't thank Rubyhair enough for helping me with this story. She's a wonderful beta. Those remaining errors are mine. :)
> 
> Thanks again for reading and following along!

McCoy stood in the privacy of his office, staring at Jim's most recent neural scans for the umpteenth time when the door opened and closed behind him. M'Benga came over to McCoy and immediately began to examine the same, troublesome results.

"Tell me some good news," McCoy said in monotone. "I've been in my office for the past hour, either going over these damn results or talking to an ophthalmologist about a procedure for Jim that has a one percent success rate. I also contacted Admiral Archer with the same, precarious update, as always."

"I think that I will tell you some good news," M'Benga said. "Spock regained consciousness and is now in a healing trance."

McCoy sagged against his desk in his relief. "That was twelve hours too long. How is he, otherwise?"

"He's fatigued. I suggested he return to his quarters to meditate before speaking with you." M'Benga said. "However, he wishes to speak with Jim as soon as he has completed his trance. Therefore, he has yet to leave sickbay."

"He's as stubborn as his captain," McCoy said dryly, sipping on his coffee. "Unfortunately, Spock will have to wait. I will need to debrief him on the mission and Jim's current condition, but I have an inclination on how he's going to take the news that he left Jim all alone to fight two, seven-foot powerful beasts- not very well at all. Besides that, I need to figure out what to do with Jim short-term before he has any visitors. Tell me. What do you make of these scans?"

"They aren't what I expected," M'Benga tapped a finger on his cheek as his eyes flitted back and forth between scans. "In fact - "

McCoy's gut clenched. "They're goddamned frightening."

"You have to expect it will happen again," M'Benga said softly.

"I have all along...only..." McCoy dragged a hand over his face. "I was hoping it wouldn't be this damn soon. He needs a break. He needs a fucking break."

"You just lifted him off of most of the drugs. Maybe there's a correlation," M'Benga offered.

"You're saying to relax him? Keep Jim drugged to try to prevent another episode?" Dismayed he even had to think about doing this to his best friend, he racked his brain thinking of another option but came up with absolutely nothing. "Until his brain activity slows down or some other solution comes along? I can't do that to him, not long term."

"I am not sure you have a choice, Leonard."

"I'd prefer to give Jim a choice," McCoy said quietly, feeling sick in his stomach. "He's more like himself right now than he has been all these weeks. And he knows he is and there are questions burning at the tip of his tongue. Still, I know exactly what he would say if I threw this at him."

"He'd agree because it means that Spock would be safe from any impending harm," M'Benga paused, "and then he'd ask you flat out why you even hesitated."

McCoy pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dammit," he whispered. It was only way to ensure that both of them came out of this. McCoy could barely keep Jim in his bed with the captain worrying like he was about his first officer, and McCoy couldn't have Jim anywhere but his damn bed in order to closely monitor his neural activity. "We have no choice. I have to proceed with this drug treatment as soon as possible."

"Take a few moments to speak with Jim, as CMO to captain. Give him that...then..." M'Benga took a breath. "We'll find another solution."

"I will start with a lower but effective dose. Ease him into it. He hates losing control of himself, and now that he is more like himself than ever, this will be even more difficult for him to take but I'm sure he'll put up a good front." McCoy gave a short, dry laugh. "Every single thing I do hurts him."

"This is saving him," M'Benga stressed. "Don't forget that. And about that procedure...you, of all people, shouldn't let the one percent success rate get in the way of agreeing to a medical advancement that may end up curing his blindness."

McCoy scowled. "It always comes down to that, doesn't it. Jim Kirk and his goddamned no-win scenarios."

"I'm sure there's quite a few more of those left up your sleeve."

"Maybe," McCoy murmured and gulped the last drop of coffee. "But, I've groveled enough. I need to get back and begin Jim's next treatment."

M'Benga turned and faced him. "Before you go, Leonard, you do realize that neither of you can make a decision about this procedure while these episodes of his are so dangerous."

M'Benga's quick observation cut deep.

"I know." McCoy leaned against his desk and hung his head. Feeling the strain of the past day, he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, massaging the deep ache which settled into his muscles hours ago. The memory shatters were hanging over their heads - and they prevented McCoy from doing much of anything in regards to Jim's health. Unlike he had first thought, they needed a solution to Jim's episodes before he could even begin to discuss the truth of Re'an V with Jim. Because now, as soon as it looked like his friend was truly returning to him, the universe handed Jim another hurdle. McCoy couldn't reveal facts that would make Jim's head spin, proceed to drug the man, and then expect him to remember the details of the conversation within an hour, let alone five minutes.

After they both left McCoy's office, McCoy continued towards Jim's bed in sickbay. Jim's arm was doing extremely well for almost ten hours post-op and before the end of the day, McCoy would order the second dermal regeneration session. He pulled the privacy curtain and quickly stepped inside, closing the curtains behind him. It didn't provide much privacy for the captain, but McCoy didn't care about that particular luxury at the moment. He could best monitor Jim where he was most visible.

Christine tucked the warming blanket so it fit tightly around Jim's body. Jim's eyes were closed, as McCoy expected after such a taxing event, not to mention the surgery. "His shivering returned but I increased the med as you suggested. It stopped about a minute ago." She paused, giving him a look McCoy understood. "His eyes hurt," she mouthed.

"Thank you, Nurse Chapel." McCoy pulled up a chair and stared at Jim, who moved his head towards McCoy in response to his voice. "Your eyes tired, Jim?"

"A little," Jim blinked slowly. "Sorry. I know it doesn't look like it, but I am trying to stay awake like you asked."

"I'm the one who's sorry, Jim. I'm keeping you from your beauty rest." McCoy glanced at Christine. "We need a few minutes, Chris. Will you take care of things for a little while? And then come back with those eyedrops we used earlier?"

"Certainly," she said, drawing the privacy curtains around them as she left.

"What's wrong, Bones?" Jim tilted his head, eyes narrowed but missing the mark as his gaze landed near McCoy's shoulder. Sad as that was, McCoy felt a small ripple of happiness when a little bit of his friend's intuition shone through. "Is it Spock? Is he awake yet?"

"I just talked with Dr. M'Benga. Spock is doing well." McCoy paused for affect, stepping closer and waiting for Jim to try to find his face. When he finally did, leaning forward in his bed in anticipation, McCoy continued. "In fact, he woke up, Jim, and is in a healing trance."

Jim exhaled a rush of air, sinking back into his bed. "Good. That's good. That's more than good. It's...dammit, Bones, every minute that I've been awake I keep thinking of him but I couldn't feel Spock, that bond was...is...so still."

The lines around Jim's mouth tightened. McCoy almost stopped Jim from continuing but something held him back. It could have been the almost normal way Jim was speaking to him, or simply that Jim clearly needed to talk and now, after all these hours, wanted to and could with the drugs out of his system. Whatever the reason, McCoy could give him a few more minutes, at the very least.

"Go on," McCoy urged.

"It hasn't been a good feeling, Bones. I still have these damn butterflies fluttering in my stomach. How's Uhura? She couldn't have taken this well. I feel terrible that this affected her. Everything was...emptier without him, and I'm already empty, Bones," Jim said quietly, brow creased in his distress. "I feel disjointed in my mind without Spock. And I get chills just thinking of him on the ground, and me, blind and fumbling around. What if I hadn't been able to grab that phaser, Bones? What if that...that Sasquatch had killed me, leaving Spock all alone? Spock could have been hauled away or worse and then Uhura would be suffering and you would be - "

"Hold it right there, Jim," McCoy said, stopping the young man before he could go any further about what McCoy, as Jim's physician and best friend, would do if Jim had been killed. "You need to calm down, Buddy. Didn't I tell you he was okay?"

Jim blinked. "Y...Yes?" He said breathlessly, expression slightly confused.

"You sound like you're not sure." McCoy squeezed Jim's hand. "Did you even hear me say that Spock was alright?"

"I...yes," Jim swallowed, face pained. "But...I can't help but think..."

"You know, Uhura is calmer than you, right now," McCoy said nonchalantly, hoping the teasing would calm Jim. "In fact, she's so cool and collected, it makes me wonder really who's married to whom here."

Jim gave an exasperated sigh. "Bo-ones...that's all you can say? Infer that Spock and I are married?"

"Yep."

Jim groaned. "Whatever, Bones. That's crazy. It just is. You know I'll never marry. I have too much shit to carry around and even more trailing me, always ready and willing to hand my ass to me. You know that. What kind of life would that be for a significant other?"

McCoy's heart constricted as his normal conversation with an almost-normal Jim sadly had to come to an end. "Listen, Jim. You should give yourself more credit in the longterm relationship department, and that is all I can say right now about the mission. However, after Spock is completes his healing trance, I have to debrief him on the mission and then, I promise," McCoy said. "You can visit. I know that he is anxious to see you, Jim."

Jim didn't light up like McCoy expected. Instead, he withdrew, looking even more lost.

"Is there something else bothering you?" McCoy hesitated, sensing that this, too, may not be an easy discussion.

"I've been going over Re'an V in my mind, Bones," Jim said slowly. "I've been going over many things that have appeared as memories...they're really more like scenes that I can only observe because I don't really feel them, and I've come to a conclusion. I think that I shouldn't have been surprised when neither of you trusted the captain at the Re'an banquet. I never gave you a reason to trust him, the captain, well...me...in recent weeks."

"I think you're being too hard on yourself, Jim."

"If I had trusted you enough in the first place, to talk to you about my past again, and then if I had also trusted Spock...then maybe...maybe some of this would had ever happened," Jim finished in a hushed voice. "Or...none of it."

"Jim, you can't think that way. It's not true."

"It isn't?" Jim snorted. "What else would it be, Bones? A lie? Like that's fucking possible."

McCoy wondered why the hell Jim had to be such a determined idiot even now. He sighed. "Jim, all I can say for now is that it's not a good time to talk about Re'an V. We're beyond that mission, and we have other things we have to deal with now that are more important."

"It's not a good time," Jim repeated and sank against his pillow, wariness in his eyes. "You've been saying that a lot, lately. I know I've been out of it and I'm blind and I still don't remember your captain all that well, but don't I have any pull around here anymore?"

McCoy fought a groan. He closed his eyes and immediately began massaging the now sharp pain at his temple. The way Jim danced between himself and 'your captain' made his head spin - and his heart double over in pain. But, for Jim's sake, he fought the growing disappointment and decided to be happy about the teasing which had shown through in Jim's last statement. "You have more pull than you think you do and about me saying that a lot...it seems to me that I am the doctor here, not you. Therefore, I know best when to leave matters alone for a patient's best interest," McCoy said without missing a beat. "And, we're not discussing past missions anymore. We're discussing the needs of my patient - who just so happens to be you, Jim."

"But, I made a mistake, Bones." Jim muttered. "Lots of them, and then...people died, Bones."

"You can't blame yourself for the things that were out of your hands, Jim," McCoy said, deciding on the spot to give Jim a slightly higher dose of the benzodiazepine than he originally planned.

"I'm sorry, Bones," Jim continued, as if he hadn't heard McCoy. "I should have told you I was struggling with Tarsus again, although I can't even really recall what specifically happened that sent the captain on edge. I imagine you knew what was bothering me so much because you kept trying to get me to talk. Do you?"

"Jim, this discussion will need to wait." While McCoy firmly reminded the captain, he typed on his PADD and sent the order for the benzodiazepine to Christine, requesting that she not delay. He paused, then added an IV drip of it as well.

"Just...can you just tell me the truth, Bones?" Jim rubbed his jaw and sighed. "Before you change the subject, like you usually do. I can tell you are going to change the subject again. I hear it in your voice."

McCoy had no choice. They had no more time to spare to discuss things - and helping Jim make sense of the recent past of Re'an V would be a fruitless endeavor after he increased the benzodiazepine along with the pain medication. In favor of the shock factor, he went straight for the change in subject as Jim predicted, but barely without a proper introduction. "You're right, Jim," he said slowly. "I am going to change the subject but I will not apologize for it."

"I see." Jim's shoulders sagged. "You know...you sound like Spock when you say things like that."

"I do, do I? Well, Spock would agree with me for once," McCoy said lightly and continued with an even gentler voice. "Jim, in order to try to prevent another episode like you had during the mission, I will have to keep you in a deep, relaxed state of mind."

"Relaxed, huh?" Jim pressed his lips into a firm line. "Bones, 'relaxed' is your code word for 'loopy.' And 'loopy' is your code word for 'drugging James T. Kirk.'"

"That's another word for it, yes," McCoy said regretfully. "It won't be for long - only until your brain activity calms down enough for my liking. Then, I will take you off of the med and...we run tests regularly every day to examine your brain activity."

Jim exhaled a slow breath and tipped his head back, his eyes trained at the ceiling. "So this is why you're not answering my questions. I'll get more confused, won't I?"

McCoy wished he could say he replied without hesitation, but it took him a moment to respond to this returning, intuitive and inquisitive Jim. "Yeah, Jim. You will."

"Bones, but I hate being 'relaxed,' but what you're talking about...it's more than that, isn't it." Jim swallowed.

McCoy sighed. "I have to make sure, Jim, that it's enough."

"Okay. Okay, I...I understand," Jim said quietly, rubbing his eyes. "I know it's what you have to do, but I like this...being able to think."

"It's best for both you and Spock."

"I hate this, Bones." Jim whispered.

"I know, and I am very sorry, Jim." McCoy rested his hand on Jim's shoulder. "We need you to think clearly. It's good for you, and good for me...but, this can't happen again. The drug won't be long-term but I need to try to ward off another one of these dangerous episodes of yours. M'Benga and I have both determined there may be a correlation to the drugs you've been on and the spike in brain activity. It's worth testing. If we do this and it works, Spock will not feel inclined to put himself in harm's way and you will not have to worry that he is."

"It's alright. I understand." Jim said, resigned. "Do whatever you need to do to get us past this. I can't allow Spock to get hurt because of me again. Just...do what you need to do."

"I know this is difficult, Jim, but you're not going to be alone during this process. I'll be here and so will Spock. The good news is that I'm going to let you sleep soon, okay?"

Jim squirmed in his seat. "I know you'll be here with me. It's the only reason I think I can get through this next part, Bones," he admitted pitifully. "Will you be here...maybe until I can sleep? I don't really want to be alone right now."

"You don't even have to ask," McCoy said gently.

Jim fidgeted more, clearly forgetting about his injured and recently sutured arm, and tried to adjust his reclined position. It looked even more awkward when Jim grasped the edge of his cover and attempted to drag it back up to his chest after it sagged to his waist.

"Hold on, Jim," McCoy said and adjusted the pillow behind his back, pulling the blanket around his friend tightly. When it reminded McCoy of tucking in Joanna, he paused, his hand shaking as it rested against Jim's shoulder.

"Bones? You alright?" Jim's brow furrowed.

"Sure am, Jim," McCoy said swiftly, moving away from the bed just as fast and from thoughts of his beloved daughter. Those thoughts tied too closely to the man he was caring for, and since the tragic ending of the Re'an mission, he could not manage those thoughts if they came crashing down around him. McCoy cleared his throat, feeling Jim's eyes boring into his back as he adjusted Jim's pain medication. "The questions is, are ya comfortable now? Or are ya still cold?"

"I'm fine," Jim said softly. "Bones?"

"Yes?" McCoy asked as Christine entered the curtained area and silently waited.

"Thank you, for taking care of me." The simple words almost broke McCoy. He braced a hand against the counter in front of him and held his breath, hoping Jim would finish with that. Of course, he didn't. "I know...I know I'm not the man I used to be nor the friend that you're used to or deserve...and I'm sorry."

"Jim, you have nothing to be sorry about," McCoy said gruffly. "Quit selling yourself short, pal. Did you or did you not take down Sasquatch singlehandedly? Who else around here can boast about that?"

Her expression almost piteous, Christine handed McCoy the hypo with the benzodiazepine that would have Jim quiet and content in minutes. McCoy's guilt multiplied.

"In fact, as I've told you before, I like ya just the way you are," McCoy double checked the dosage. "We all do. I don't want you to stress about changing anything about yourself or trying too hard, Jim. All I do ask, though, is that you trust me."

McCoy turned around, ready to administer the drug when voices drifted from behind the curtain.

 _"This bed is yours, Dr. Jahnas. I will take your vitals. Then, Dr. M'Benga will come by and examine you shortly,"_ a nurse said.

McCoy's gaze locked on Jim as the younger man's face drained of color. Despite the rush of heat to his face, McCoy's instincts and level-headedness came into play and he injected the drug into Jim's neck before he could protest.

 _"Thank you,"_ Dr. Jahnas said, sighing. " _I thought I'd kicked this cold, but I think I worked myself to the bone the past few weeks and caught a new illness."_

Jim's expression shattered. He inched away from McCoy's hand, which rested on his shoulder.

McCoy could only watch as the walls that he and Spock had erected around their unsuspecting and somewhat fragile captain crumbled.

 

* * *

 

 

Elise settled gracefully in a chair in Archer's office and placed her head covering on her lap, her hands folded and expression serene. "Thank you, Admiral, for adjusting your schedule this evening. I apologize for my late appearance. My shuttle here was delayed."

"I almost missed you," Archer said from behind his desk, shaking his head. "I don't know what to ask you first: why you believe you are here for Captain Kirk or the details concerning Sonja's kidnapping. Therefore, it seems more efficient to ask you to explain from the beginning. However, off the record, I strongly believe that you are this young woman's granddaughter even without hearing her story. Her Re'an name matches closely to her given one - and we cannot deny the facial recognition."

"Soona," Elise's eyes flitted to Archer's window. "It is a beautiful name and an unfortunate circumstance. A day has not gone by that I have not thought of my bright granddaughter. Is she well?"

"Yes," Archer nodded. "When considering the situation, we decided to keep her on board the Enterprise. The crew was willing to take her in and she has fit in quite remarkably. Several creatures from Re'an V were under close study and she has aided in the xenozoologists' remaining research."

"She has yet to see the captain again since her rescue?" Elise's eyes softened. "She has not thanked him?"

When Elise questioned him, Archer realized he should not have been surprised and took a quick breath. His thoughts were running rampant, obviously ripe for her picking as he'd been taken by surprise and his hope rose that whatever Elise's abilities were, they held the key to ending Kirk's debilitating mental condition.

"Thanked him?" Archer regarded her, contemplating his answer. "For Kirk, knowing that Soona is safe is sufficient."

"It would be for the former Captain Kirk," Elise said slowly.

"I confess it is a difficult situation." Archer sighed, clasping his hands on his desk. "Since the Re'an meld, Jim has been quite impressionable, and Dr. McCoy and Commander Spock implemented a rigid plan to keep that to a minimum."

"It has worked thus far?"

"Mostly," he said quietly. "They've reached a danger zone. Kirk's mental state is debilitating at times but Dr. McCoy is monitoring his brain activity indefinitely."

"That is no way for a man to live, Admiral, especially one with the captain's vitality."

"It is the only way to care for Kirk without risking his life - or that of his first officer." Archer paused, noting that Elise's shoulders dropped. "Should we continue this conversation tomorrow? I imagine you are fatigued from your traveling."

"No," Elisa blinked. "Forgive me. I sense many things from you and it has been years since a human has been so open with me."

Archer straightened and heaved himself out of his chair. He poured her a glass of water, handing it to her in earnest. "Please, take a moment. I admit that I have been greatly concerned about Jim, especially in light of what happened over a year ago. This being so early on in their five year mission, it is disconcerting that his captaincy appears to be snuffed out so quickly. Dr. McCoy and Commander Spock are his closest friends. They, too, are affected by these events and are experiencing great pain seeing their friend this way."

Elise sipped, then cleared her throat. "Over twenty years ago, I once cared for two members the Re'an following the couple's own unfortunate melding experiences with the chosen one at that time. The husband and wife came to me in confidence when a sect of their race visited our peaceful, unassuming village on Betazed. That sect stole Sonja from my own home while I aided two of their very own." Her eyes flickered with sadness. "I did not heal the female being completely with my empathic powers, nor the male, but I lost my entire family in the process - my daughter blamed me for Soona's kidnapping."

Archer said slowly. "This was a planned distraction? A decoy?"

"On part of the couple I helped? No. They did not know," she said simply. "I saw in their minds, which was a miracle in itself but my abilities have always surpassed what was expected. Not only am I capable of healing rather quickly and efficiently, but I can withstand great sorrow. As I worked to heal this couple's minds, the ruling Re'an stole my granddaughter right under our noses, while we were all in the house with her. Although most Re'an are peaceful as they claim, the ruling class is ruthless, hiding under a false sense of peace and thereby fooling every other member of the Federation."

"I am truly sorry for the additional pain that her kidnapping caused your family," Archer said. "I will, of course, arrange another time to speak with them."

"My daughter had already been looking for an excuse to throw away her heritage and I came along at the right time. It would have occurred at some point, Admiral." She leaned forward, eyes darkening. "Admiral Archer, do not be disappointed or alarmed by what I tell you. Re'an telepathy can be an intense experience, even harmful between members of their own species. It contains many safeguards. You take one course, it causes another. It can be even more harmful, even deadly, to other species, including my own."

"But you were not harmed," Archer observed.

"My empathic and telepathic abilities are resilient, Admiral, and you are correct. The process did not harm me. Although my powers did not completely heal the damages already incurred upon this Re'an couple, I was able to soften their injuries. I also prevented their minds from experiencing further distress. I saw the intricacies of Re'an telepathy, and more than that, they shared with me their secrets."

"Secrets," Archer murmured.

She nodded. "Yes, secrets that would be of benefit to humanoids...and humans. I strongly believe that I will be able to provide healing to your captain."

"Enough to enable him to retain his captaincy? The Enterprise?"

"I cannot be certain of that, but my powers should be sufficient to restore the most important parts to Captain Kirk and reduce what has already been severely damaged." She paused, gazing sadly at him. "However, I do not know if my powers can reverse his blindness."

"At first Kirk's blindness appeared to be a side effect of the meld, but Dr. McCoy and Commander Spock now believe the meld disguised the true problem - the beating Kirk received prior to the meld damaged the optic nerve." Archer rubbed his jaw, fighting the emotion gathering in his throat. "He...it's..."

"I understand," her warm voice soothed him. "Captain Kirk is a respected, inspiring young man. There must be many who are looking after him, wanting to find a way to heal his eyes."

Archer cleared his throat. "Dr. McCoy recently learned of a procedure which is still undergoing testing. I do not know more than that." He paused. If there was any for hope for Jim Kirk...this was it. And to think he'd almost missed her. "If you are willing, I will arrange transportation to a Starbase, where you will wait to rendezvous with the Enterprise."

"Admiral, I lost almost all of my family that fateful day, Admiral. More than two decades later, a stubborn captain refused to leave a planet alone until he rescued my Soona. It appears that the very man who rescued my grandchild now needs my help." She said, voice growing firm. "I cannot do anything but offer my services. I must do this, or the heartache and loss that I experienced more than two decades ago will continue to haunt me forever, Admiral."

Archer looked at her intently. "Can you leave in the morning?"

"It will be none too soon," she said. "I am anxious to meet the captain who saved my granddaughter."

 

* * *

 

 

Spock knew not what awakened him from his trance until he found himself standing at the foot of Jim's bed, gripping its edge to keep himself steady. He had never been forcibly awakened from a trance like this before and, at first, he fought against the pull until he realized the fervent tug was coming from Jim. Squinting at the figures before him, Spock tried to make sense of the situation and listened to the murmuring voices while his fatigued body and mind craved the much needed healing trance. After sensing the tension in the room and, even more, the tension radiating from Jim, Spock forced himself into reality. When his vision finally cleared, Spock realized that Jim lay on his side and, curiously, his back was to the doctor.

"Jim? Please, just listen," the doctor called softly.

"Trust you," Jim said, his words clipped. "You said to trust you. And I did. You lied to me, Bones."

"Jim, I know it appears that I lied to you but I haven't."

"She's alive. Alive, Bones." Jim choked on a sob. "And you never told me. This entire time? It's been weeks."

"Yes," McCoy answered, pulling up a chair. He leaned forward in his seat, his hand stretched out to touch Jim's shoulder but at the last second he pulled back. The doctor sank back into the chair, looking most resigned. "This entire time, Jim."

"And it wasn't...wasn't important enough to tell me?" Jim's voice cracked. "Aleyah...is important, Bones. You...you should know that."

"I do know this is important and that is exactly why we haven't told you," McCoy said slowly. "It's...it's a big deal Jim, and you haven't been in the right state of mind to take it in."

"That's your opinion," Jim whispered. "So...is there anything else that you're keeping from me?"

"Jim...it's not like that," McCoy pleaded. "It's more complicated, and this medicine is going to hit ya any minute. All I need you to do is trust me. Trust us, Jim. Please."

"Trust you?" Jim repeated, his tone dulling. "How can I? _No_."

"Dr. McCoy, could you please explain how Jim discovered the truth about Dr. Jahnas?" Spock asked quietly.

McCoy glanced up at Spock. "He overheard Dr. Jahnas talking, but Christine has escorted her to another room on the Enterprise for now."

"I see." Spock took a breath and walked carefully to the side of the bed opposite McCoy. "Jim? You have been suffering from the harmful effects of the Re'an meld. Dr. McCoy and I determined that knowing Dr. Jahnas was alive would invoke questions which we could not answer in fear that your mind would remain with the Re'an."

"I don't understand," Jim whispered, his heart rate decreasing in what Spock assumed to be a direct result of the medication McCoy administered prior to Spock's arrival. Jim's face slackened, his shoulders following suit, but Spock still sensed the feelings of betrayal and hurt traipsing through his mind. As the drug coursed through Jim's body, those thoughts were coming to a halt. Still, they continued striking and inflicting pain on Jim's vulnerable heart. That did not bode well with Spock. He used the little strength he had to soften those blows and hasten the drug's effects.

"They have a hold on you, Jim, and we have done all that we could to keep you with us," McCoy explained. "We discovered early on that the Re'an part in your mind sees the truth as a threat and strengthens itself if we compromised it. It was best if you came to the truth on your own as you grew stronger, but now, even that's dangerous. The Re'an part was designed for you to depend on these lies. It made you more accepting of the Re'an and less accepting of us. We couldn't let that happen, Jim."

"You mean there's more?" Jim's voice thickened. With tears in his eyes, his head inched towards McCoy. "More that...that I believe to be true...that's...not?"

"There is, buddy," McCoy said softly. "I'm so sorry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you hanging - again. I sort of dreaded giving this chapter to you next, but, as I said before, a big chunk of Chapter 34 is complete and I'm hoping to post sooner than usual. And there's a lot going on in that one. Chapter 35 could be just as big or bigger and, again, a lot going on with that one. I'm quite excited about sharing these next chapters...This one was tough, but I saw NO way around giving the truth to Jim and being true to the story, this was the way it had to be done. I also saw McCoy needing to at least temporarily solve the problem with the bond and memory shatters, and although it hurts, that had to be done for Jim and Spock's safety, too. Growing pains. :( But they do have each other and I think you know that every step of the way, Jim REALLY does know that. Especially now. So, please don't be discouraged. :) Also, there may be a small, really good thing which comes out of Jim being highly medicated....a blessing in disguise for him. :)
> 
> Onward towards Jim meeting Soona's grandmother....I'll leave you with this: that scene may be in the next chapter. ;)


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, honestly, as you can see, this chapter almost got away from me, but I didn't have the heart to split it up into two! Thank you for your comments last chapter - I love hearing what you think about the story. :) Many thanks to Rubyhair for beta reading and being there to encourage! :)

Jim thought he knew how it felt to have one's world fall apart. He thought he'd experienced that a few times already. In fact, he knew he had - he'd died once, horribly, and he recently lost those with whom he identified himself, an entire species, in fact. The emotional pain from those events was something he never wished to revisit, yet here he was. He didn't want to listen as they justified their decisions. And as ironic as it was, the truth was very clear to him. His life had been a complete and utter lie for weeks, with his two closest friends at the very center of that deception.

"How much, Bones?" Jim's thoughts began to float away before he could snatch them back. He rushed out his question before the drug, which his friend so timely gave him when he heard Dr. Jahnas' voice, overcame him.

How could he ever trust Bones after this?

And worse, yet, how could he trust... _Spock?_

"Let's not get into that right now, but tomorrow?" McCoy said softly, "We can start making sense of things with you, then, Jim."

"A little? Everything?" He blinked widely up at the ceiling, his body sinking deeper and deeper into the bed. He wanted to lash out at Bones for doing this to him, but he knew his deeply medicated state would help Spock, so he bit his tongue to remind himself not to get mad at Bones for this one thing.

It must have been a bad idea, for he began to cry more.

"Oh, shit..." McCoy grabbed something beside him and wiped his mouth. "Buddy, why'd you...it's okay...okay...Jim, this med...it'll take care of that, too. Just...hang in there."

"Can't trust you," Jim mumbled, tongue thick and feeling the tears course down his cheeks, each a painful reminder of what his life had become - a series of lies. "But want, too."

Why he'd added that part, Jim had no idea. His heart was breaking. He'd been lied to by the one person who had mattered the most to him for so long in his life. And then he'd been lied to once again, this time by the very one who always spoke the truth, who proclaimed he could not tell a lie. All Jim wanted to do know was to construct walls. Miles and miles of thick, insurmountable walls. Why would he even want to give Bones - or Spock - a reason to wade through Jim's bullshit and climb up next to him and hold him like he was breaking.

But it was exactly what the doctor did.

Jim clutched Bones' arm, which wrapped around him like those cozies clung to Mrs. McCoy's teapots. The last thing he wanted was to be so close to his best friend - or be reminded of the many things Bones did right, like make him his favorite tea. But there it was, an image of those pots on a counter in a place he still couldn't recall. He almost mentioned that to Bones, just in spite, but his tongue felt numb and, once again, his head even thicker than it did a few seconds ago. Instead, he pulled at the doctor's arm. He tried to loosen the hold Bones but he couldn't get his fingers to cooperate. The doctor refused to budge, and Jim realized the drug Bones had given him had truly begun its work.

"Bo-oones," Jim whimpered. "Go."

"No, Jim," Bones said warmly in his ear. "If it's the last thing I do, I'm going to show you that your friends care about you and we will not let this get in the way. We stick together, pal, and Spock...do you see him standing here beside you? He's without shoes and only wearing the loose shirt and pants we make you wear when you're in sickbay. He brought himself out of his trance just to get to you, his state of dress be damned."

"Hurts," Jim whispered. "Bones. 'hurts."

"I know, Jim. I know," Bones said. "And it's going to hurt for a just a little bit longer...and then Jim? I can promise you that it won't."

Jim felt his body folding within itself, being tossed on the waves and landing straight in the arms of his betrayer. Although he could not see him clearly, Jim knew the other one stared at him somberly, and Jim could not look away from the tall, murky shadow.

"Why?" He whispered to Spock. Of his two untrustworthy friends the Vulcan was the least deceitful, and so he queried him.

"We could not call ourselves your friends, Jim, had we had allowed the Re'an to take away the treasure we both cherished most," Spock answered.

Jim blinked his eyes, full of sleep and new knowledge he couldn't comprehend. He didn't understand how warmth could creep into his muscles, finding its way deep into his body to assuage the hurt in his heart, but it did. Now content, Jim allowed his head to drop further onto Bones' arm, where he could remain, safe and comforted. In this limp and malleable state, his body no longer listened to the vague commands coming from his brain. He had questions he couldn't seem to properly form with his tongue, and they had answers they seemed to want to give him but couldn't because he was drugged.

It wasn't fair. Jim didn't know what he'd have to do to get those answers, but they tantalized him and he decided he'd almost do anything to get them.

"In due time, Jim," Spock said gently.

Jim closed his eyes. Of course they would have to wait, but Jim wanted to know more now. Even if it meant he'd forget in a few minutes. His mind dipped and rolled, tossing him effortlessly away from that thought and onto another.

"Spock? Maybe we can..." McCoy's voice drifted over and above Jim, its southern drawl evoking even more memories. Jim forgot that he was trying to catch every word his friends were saying and, instead, wondered, with a morbid sense of curiosity, if at least one of the mistakes he'd made on Re'an V was also a lie. If there was at least _one_ thing that had gone wrong in his reality that really hadn't gone wrong because of his decisions...if there was at least one Jim thought he could work through this for his friends.

"Yes," a firm voice said, bringing him back to reality.

Jim blinked several times, finding himself now on his back and no idea how he got there. He knew drugging did this to him, pulled tricks, and it wasn't nice. With what he thought to be very nice words, considering the situation, he told Bones exactly what he thought.

"God, Jim, I know." Bones' voice cracked. "I know, but I promise we'll get you through this."

Jim still didn't think this was nice, but the familiar hand brushing his forehead was nice. Even nicer were the murmurings that it would be fine for him to try to sleep. The comforting drawl continued in his ear, saying that he wasn't going to leave Jim. All Jim could do was nod.

For he didn't want the doctor or his first officer to leave.

"Yes," Spock repeated. "In fact, there are many. For one, concerned for her safety, you did not permit Dr. Jahnas to return to the planet after the first day. For another, as soon as you realized that a connection existed between you and the Re'an creatures, you informed both your physician and first officer. You did not delay, Jim. You never resorted to secrets or lies. You remained the captain we knew you to be - honorable and intuitive, undaunted and courageous."

The words buzzed pleasantly in his mind. Long after Spock finished, Jim kept them as alive as long as he possibly could. He recalled most of them for more than a minute, but after a full quiet moment passed by, all Jim knew was that he had saved a life and he hadn't lied.

_He'd saved a life and he hadn't lied._

That was even better than one thing. That was _two_ things.

"Bones?" He murmured, his eyes darting from the ceiling to one of the grayish forms by the bed. Which one was a Bones? He looked at each one again, confused. He needed a Bones. It was important for him to know, for he had something very important to tell his friend. It could not wait.

"Yeah, Jim. Look to your left, buddy."

Bones' thick voice worried Jim, and he asked Bones about it.

"I'm fine. I'm...you know what, pal?"

Jim said he did know. He said he knew Bones was his friend and would never hurt him.

"Do no harm," Jim stated proudly of his friend.

He knew Bones wouldn't lie. He'd protect. Just like Spock would. He tried saying all of that but decided it all came out slurred, for Jim himself didn't even know what he'd said and halfway through the sentence stopped speaking altogether. It wouldn't do to confuse them, too. He was confused enough for the three of them. He just hoped Bones and Spock somehow understood and saw the one tear he let roll down his cheek - it was a tear of happiness, if there were such things. If there weren't such things, he was making it a fucking thing. A tear of happiness. If anyone deserved one of those, it was his two best friends. A tear of fucking happiness.

"I do, Jim. I see it and Spock sees it - and things are going to be okay. I just know they are."

Then all he wanted was to sleep, as the doctor was finally allowing him to do so, and just when he was about to drift away, a familiar voice broke the silence.

 

* * *

 

_"Uhura to McCoy."_

"Yes, Uhura." Seeing that Jim was almost asleep, McCoy replied as quietly as possible.

_"It's Admiral Archer, doctor. He would like to speak with you as soon as possible."_

"I can't take the comm at the moment, Uhura." McCoy said. An ion storm couldn't pull him away from Jim's side, not when he'd promised the younger man that he'd stay until he fell asleep.

_"He informed me it is of utmost importance. It cannot wait."_

"As CMO of this ship, it will have to." McCoy said firmly. "McCoy-"

 _"Doctor,"_ Uhura pressed. _"It concerns the captain. He explained that he found..."_

McCoy glanced up at Spock when Uhura didn't finish. "What? He found what?"

Spock arched a brow, his stoicism otherwise belying the curiosity McCoy imagined coursed through the Vulcan's mind.

 _"All he said was that he will tell you once I patch him through,_ " Uhura said.

"If he doesn't mind the commander and Jim listening, go ahead." McCoy sighed. Jim had almost been asleep before the interruption and now he saw a bit of blue. Obviously still awake, even drugged Jim was sure to stubbornly hang on to consciousness just to listen to Archer.

_"I will let him know. Uhura out."_

"This is most unusual," Spock stated.

Jim looked blearily at the ceiling. "Archer?" he said.

"Yes, Jim, it's Archer but I promised you that I wouldn't leave you before you fell asleep, and I'm not going to break my promise."

"Do no harm," Jim mumbled.

"You've latched on to that, haven't you, buddy." McCoy brushed his hand over Jim's forehead before adjusting the IV medication he decided to give Jim as well. "And it seems to have helped you. I'm glad."

_"Uhura to McCoy."_

"Yes, Lieutenant," McCoy frowned, now believing whatever Archer wanted to say could not wait.

_"I'll patch him through now."_

"Go ahead."

_"Commander, I am gratified knowing you are well. As I realize you don't have much time, Dr. McCoy and Commander Spock, I'll get straight to the point. How is Kirk?"_

"Stable, sir," McCoy said.

_"Glad to hear that, McCoy, although I know its less than desirable. On that note, gentlemen, I have news. We have a confirmed match for Soona's family. I have personally spoken to her grandmother and with both of her parents."_

"Soona?" Jim's gaze flickered towards McCoy. The focus lasted only a second. Jim gave a deep sigh, his eyes closing as he mumbled her name a second time.

 _"Was that Kirk?"_ Archer's concern bled through the comm. _"He's doesn't sound like the Kirk I spoke to recently."_

Reminding himself that Archer had not spoken with Jim at his worst or even semi-worst, McCoy tamped down any biting remarks. "No," McCoy said, almost gritting his teeth. "He isn't, Admiral, but it's what we have to do and he understands."

 _"I am deeply sorry,"_ Archer said quietly. _"I know this is tough. May I suggest to you what Soona's grandmother suggested - that somehow, you allow Kirk to tell Soona this news. It seems only fitting."_

McCoy drew a deep breath. "Sir, I can't guarantee that will happen, but we'll try. I'm glad to hear you found her family, sir. She will need all the support she can get as she transitions to Terran life."

_"And they, especially her grandmother, will be there to offer support. Commander, I would like the Enterprise to lay a course for the nearest Starbase. Her family is anxious to be reunited with her. I am sending you information to share with Soona, which you will use to prepare her with prior knowledge of her family before they meet."_

"Very well. We shall do so immediately, Admiral," Spock assured.

 _"Good. I have one other matter of business,"_ Archer said, pausing. _"Soona is half Betazoid."_

"Even without the forced physical changes, I find that hard to believe," McCoy frowned.

_"It's true, McCoy. You will see in the documents that her maternal grandparents are of Betazoid ancestry."_

Spock arched a brow. "Admiral, you are suggesting the Re'an concealed or even manipulated her heritage until it was either completely suppressed or forced from existence."

_"Indeed, I am."_

"I suppose that is a possibility, after we've seen firsthand what the Re'ans were capable of," McCoy said, frowning.

 _"Her grandmother's empathic and telepathic powers are quite strong, as proven when she aided two Re'an beings more than two decades ago."_ Archer stopped, and the words hung between them in the silence.

"What are you suggesting, Admiral?" Spock asked slowly.

 _"I am not suggesting anything. I have facts, Commander. Soona's grandmother believes she can be of help to Kirk."_ Archer laughed. _"I know it seems almost too good to be true, but isn't it just like Kirk to save the very woman whose grandmother can, in turn, save him. She used her powers to heal the injuries inflicted upon two Re'an beings following a meld. In return, she was given secrets of Re'an telepathy, and those will be of help to her when she meets Kirk in three days."_

"Three days?" McCoy repeated. Archer's happiness contagious, he gave a short laugh. "You...you just said...three days..."

_"Unless you can get yourselves to the nearest Starbase in two, yes. Three days."_

"Admiral," Spock said swiftly. "Two days will be sufficient."

 _"I thought you'd say that,"_ Archer chuckled. _"Keep Kirk well for the next forty-eight hours, and I promise you, Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock, your captain - and friend - return to you. We can discuss this more at a later time today. Archer, out."_

The comm ended.

"This is most unexpected but rather acceptable news, indeed." Spock nodded to McCoy.

"That may be the understatement of the year, Spock," McCoy said, fighting a state of numbness.

"I did not mean for it to sound trivial," Spock wore an almost imperceptible frown.

"I was joking," McCoy said. "And - "

He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed a set of tired, brilliant blue eyes gazing at him.

"Bones?" Jim muttered. "I'm...I'm going to...better?"

"Yeah, Jim," McCoy's eyes stung from a rise of unprecedented emotion. "You're damn right you're going to get better."

Jim sighed, mumbling. "The captain's 'turning soon?"

"No, Jim," McCoy said, choking down an unexpected sob.

"'fused." Jim's brow wrinkled.

"Our captain is already here." McCoy wiped his eyes, forcing himself to maintain his composure for a little while longer. For Jim. Just a little longer.

"As is our friend," Spock said quietly.

"He's just been...misplaced," McCoy managed. "And you, Jim, are going to be whomever it is you're supposed to be after Soona's grandmother helps you. We only want what's best for you."

Jim eyes fluttered shut. "S'possed to be cap'n. Make sure."

"If that's who you want to be, Jim," McCoy fondly murmured, "I think that's exactly who you will be."

Jim fell asleep before McCoy finished speaking. Spock sank into a chair beside Jim, no longer wearing his usual, unflappable expression. Spock commed the bridge with the new orders and then fell silent as he stared at the rise and fall of the captain's chest. McCoy wasn't the only one wearing his heart on his sleeve. The commander did, as well. McCoy didn't have to look far. One glance at Spock, and he saw the same potent relief and anticipation that he was experiencing. When the emotions that he'd bottled up all these weeks came to a head, the commander bowed his head in respect and allowed McCoy a moment to himself.

Jim would be healed, whether it be a minute or significant change. Either way, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that an answer had come in the nick of time, and with a little more luck, Jim would not be forced into a life of medication and uncertainty away from his beloved crew and ship.

As the weight lifted from his shoulders, McCoy sank into a chair and laid his head on the chest of his best friend. He wanted to weep, and so, with his hands curled around his sleeping captain, he did.

 

* * *

 

The turbulent evening behind them and a new day having dawned, Spock sat in McCoy's office before his shift began. They finished discussing the captain's progress, as had become customary all these weeks, and then they spoke of his upcoming meeting with Soona's grandmother. Spock was unsurprised when McCoy followed their discussion with a more thorough explanation of an ongoing study that could possibly cure Jim's blindness.

"Is the surgery invasive?" Spock queried, pleased that McCoy had continued his search for answers to Jim's condition.

"Not necessarily," McCoy explained quickly. "The procedure will encourage regeneration of the optical nerve. The implant will also allow the electrical impulses slide past the nerve with greater ease, and a nanotechnologic device will send neuroprotective substances to the nerve to prevent apoptosis. We want to promote cell growth, not give the eyes any reason to atrophy. He'd receive an implant near his lash line that would practically be invisible. I've already played around with facial scans - it wouldn't drastically alter his appearance. Hell, if anything, it'll enhance Jim's eyelashes, as if he needs anything else to pretty him up."

"Jim will consider this procedure, doctor, and he will agree." Spock did not glance up from the PADD as he spoke to Dr. McCoy. "The one percent success rate shall not deter him, and as Acting Captain I am aware that we may delay our next mission at your discretion if you deem this a medical emergency."

"He'll consider it if the memory shatters are dealt with - and gone," McCoy replied, sorting through a pile of his own PADDS on his desk. "Otherwise, I'm not even mentioning it to him, Spock."

Spock would not accept anything less than Jim's mind being healed from his precarious episodes. "It would be prudent to contact -"

"Wait," McCoy said. "You're going to suggest that he meet us at the Starbase, aren't you?"

Spock noted the surgeon's contact information. "I was not aware that you acquired telepathic abilities since our last conversation, doctor."

"Smart ass," McCoy muttered.

"The captain's needs are the foremost priority of both his first officer," Spock paused, now glancing up at the doctor. "And his attending physician."

"I contacted him this morning." McCoy's lips twitched to an almost imperceptible smug smile. "About sixty-two minutes ago, to be exact."

"That was a wise decision," Spock concurred.

"He'll be there with three of his staff about two days after we arrive." McCoy said, then scowled. "I had to twist his arm a bit, playing up how wonderful it would be for his career if he healed Starfleet's flagship captain of his blindness. Even then, it wasn't easy. He had to rearrange his entire schedule for the next month."

McCoy stopped and picked up his coffee. He sipped slowly, eyes guarded, and as Spock considered the doctor's words, he deduced that more than a 'twist to the surgeon's arm' was necessary.

"Yes. See, I know what you're thinkin' again," McCoy grumbled. "I took a gamble in more ways than one."

"If the captain's mental state is not resolved and these services are not required, will the surgeon be sufficiently compensated?" Spock asked.

"I have a mountain of credits that I've saved over the years," McCoy shrugged. "For a rainy day. And this...this is more like a storm so I figured I could put them to good use."

"I, too, set aside credits for a rainy day," Spock said, lifting himself out of his chair.

McCoy leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. They stared at each other, words unspoken but heard just the same. Then, Spock inclined his head and made his way to the bridge.

For while it was a rainy day, indeed, the clouds would soon break.

 

* * *

 

Jim sucked in a breath, his chest rising as he heard the words good morning in a distinct Southern drawl.

"How's that head of yours, Jim?" Bones called from somewhere in the room.

Jim exhaled a rush of air. He blinked open his eyes, astonished that he had some clarity of thought and said the first thing on his mind. "I'm hungry."

"I figured you would be since it's almost noon, and I already brought you breakfast because it's more of the comfort food you like."

"Breakfast," Jim murmured. Something moved, and he squeezed his eyes shut when a wave of dizziness hit him.

"Sorry about that," Bones said quietly, his voice now near. "Gotta get you reclined so you can eat."

"Drugged," Jim frowned at him, keeping his eyes shut.

Bones sighed. "Yeah, ya still are, though just not as much. Hate me?"

Jim recoiled. That thought cut deep, and his eyes smarted. He wiped the wetness away and hoped Bones hadn't noticed.

"Jim, I was joking," Bones said gently. "And I'm sorry it didn't seem like it."

"Oh," Jim said in a small voice. "Sounded like..."

"It sounded like I really believed you could really hate me?" Bones grunted. "I know for a fact, pal, that you may be irritated with me right now but won't admit it. I also know ya love me, maybe just for the baths I let you take or maybe for the ridiculous amount of bubbles I let you put in those baths, but ya love me just the same."

Jim fought a smile.

"Your tray is on your left. You can't use your right hand well at the moment and your dexterity may be a little off from the meds, but I assume you'll want to try to feed yourself, anyway." Bones cleared his throat. "I'm not going anywhere, so if you find that you can't manage, then...I'll just eat your food for you. I skipped breakfast this mornin' because the Andorian twins and that pretty blonde kick-ass security officer you used to flirt with before you became all decorated and captainly? Well, trust me. You don't want to know..."

Jim barked out a laugh, not that he remembered the twins or the security officer but Bones painted an entertaining picture with very few words. Jim sighed happily and dug into his food, managing for a few minutes until he grew tired of dropping things. Plus, at the rate he was going, he would be eating cold food, which he hated.

"Bones." Jim scowled at his tray. A shadow moved and the utensils clanged. But it wasn't the doctor who prepped his first bite.

"Allow me, Jim," said Spock.

Too hungry to dwell on the oddness of Spock feeding him, Jim didn't protest.

"Do you recall the conversation we had with Admiral Archer yesterday?" Spock asked, the second bite he offered better than the first. Jim chewed, liking this change of pace. Sometimes Bones fed him too slow. He gulped down his food and shook his head.

Then nodded.

He ate a little more and took a drink from the glass that was pressed into his hand. He was waiting for another bite when he realized Spock had stopped feeding him. Jim frowned.

"Jim," Spock said, "You indicated that you do remember when Admiral Archer spoke to us."

Jim cocked his head, sorting through the mental cobwebs. It took a moment. Maybe two. He felt much like he did in the midst of a hangover, only without the headache and sick stomach. Scratching his chin, Jim realized he remembered only one word of that conversation. He sighed. "Spock, I just...remember Soona."

"Yes, captain. The Admiral informed us that they located her family."

Jim collapsed back onto his pillow, happiness finding its way into his chest. "They found her family," he repeated. "She's going back?"

"She will meet them tomorrow."

Jim could've cried. That was three things that was good about the Re'an mission. Instead, he sniffed and turned his head away from Spock, not crying.

"We would like for you to tell her this news," Spock said.

"Nope," Jim sniffed.

"Soona's grandmother suggested it to Admiral Archer."

"Me?" Jim shook his head. "Not like this."

"I'll get you off the meds in about an hour, but I need a little more time to keep your brain activity at these levels, Jim," Bones said. "Let's not make a decision about speaking with Soona until we see how you're doing."

Surprised the doctor was in the room - but pleased he'd stayed - Jim's eyes welled up more. He could hardly string together a coherent set of words, the focus required exhausted him, and he kept crying, which he hated. "I don't like...this..." he whispered, allowing his shoulders to drop.

"It's okay to feel that way, but I just want you to know I am proud of you for doing the right thing, Jim," Bones said softly.

Jim nodded and stared up at the ceiling, mindful that they removed his tray but did not leave him alone.

But then he remembered.

He was going to meet...someone. And that someone was going to help him. Spock didn't offer the answer and Bones didn't press him - and Jim discovered that he appreciated the space they gave him. Had it been something the old him had preferred? Thinking on his own? In solitude? Granted, Jim wasn't in solitude but he could feel the space they gave him and he liked it as much as he liked them being so involved, such as Spock feeding him or Bones holding him. The next hour, Jim struggled to find himself while the drug's effects ebbed. By the end of the hour, he still hadn't quite found himself but at least Bones let him walk to the bathroom.

Sitting in a chair was even better, and knowing he didn't have to stay in bed but would continue sitting here for therapy on his arm better still.

"I'm not so cold right now." Jim's relief so great in the temperature change, he practically melted in his seat. "I'm not cold, Bones."

"I wondered if you'd notice that," Bones said. "Your temperature increased with the drug therapy. Although this rise in temperature could become a problem, it isn't at the moment. I think we should celebrate."

"Celebrate?" Jim asked, confused. His heart pounded and, panicking, he backtracked. "It's not...not a big deal. It's...a little thing?"

"Jim," Bones said gently. "Celebrating these little things is not a bad idea. Especially when a little thing is actually a big thing. You being comfortable in your own skin is big, Jim."

"But, Bones...I..." Jim blinked, his mind a scramble of Re'an, the captain, and the man he was now. "No birthdays. I don't do those. And...there's...only particular ceremonies the Re'an...they celebrate those...no...nothing else..."

He stopped and buried his head in his hands, unaware that his shoulders shook and even more unaware that he'd been in a private room in sickbay since the moment he first awakened. "No...no...Bones...no celebrating...dad died...and then the Re'an...no, Bones."

"It's alright, Jim. We understand. No celebrating." Bones knelt in front of him.

"I...I can't..." Jim gave a short, dismal laugh. "No celebrating, Bones. I...I'm sorry..."

"Jim, it's going to be okay," Bones soothed. "We understand and we aren't going to make you do anything you don't want to. The way you're feeling? It's nothing to be ashamed about, alright?"

Jim's shoulders shuddered one more time. He was making a fool of himself. He wanted to be a captain again, and captains didn't break down, did they?

He swallowed down a sob. "I took down that...that fucking Sasquatch but I can't...I can't do this right now, Bones."

"I know," Bones murmured, squeezing Jim's knee. "It's hard, but you have us, Jim."

Jim straightened in his chair, determined to be more captainly like Bones had said and somehow be the friend they needed. He'd been a burden long enough; if being in this confused state distressed Jim, it had to hurt his best friend, too. And he couldn't ignore the pain he sensed from Spock through their bond. Jim took a deep breath. He stared down at the gray form in front of him and then up at the tall form of his first officer. Maybe there was an easier way to do this. "I want to be heavily medicated until we get to...to..."

"The Starbase where you'll meet Soona's grandmother, the Betazoid healer who will be able to help you?" Bones finished softly for him.

Jim nodded. He really didn't understand what Bones said but it made sense. Why wouldn't he want to meet Soona's grandmother? He'd saved Soona and now Soona had family to meet. That would be an important moment to witness.

"I don't want to do that unless I have to, Jim," Bones said, his tone too gentle for Jim's liking. Jim set his jaw. "I am watching things very carefully, and, if you can try to remain calm, I'll keep you off of those drugs. We'd like to talk to you but I know that's not what you want right now. However, it may be that I have to begin another round of treatment very soon. I imagine you've changed your mind about the drugs because now you're confused and maybe even frightened. You would rather not think clearly, because in that state you won't realize that your thinking isn't all that normal...because knowing it's not normal...then it hurts...am I right?"

Of course, Bones was right, and Jim couldn't stand it anymore.

"What did they do to me, Bones?" Jim choked out. "What the fuck did they do?

 

* * *

 

Soona took one last look at the remaining Re'an snake in the protective case and said goodbye to the xenozoologist on duty. She walked out of the lab, believing it to be the last time she'd ever see a Re'an creature again. It was near death, having been the sole survivor for two weeks now. Fighting her sorrow, she stepped into the corridor, only to see Nyota Uhura waiting outside the lab.

"Nyota," Soona slowed, but did not stop. Her Re'an upbringing kept her on task and her feet could not help but keep a still-brisk pace as she planned to her quarters, which she shared with a slightly younger ensign. She did, however, offer what she thought was a normal, Terran greeting. She threw in concern for the commander for good measure. "I did not expect to see you. How is Mr. Spock? Is he recovered?"

Nyota smiled warmly at Soona and fell in step beside her. "He is, thank you, and he has a request before you return to your quarters."

"Oh," Soona said, surprised. She'd been given a communicator soon after she as boarded the Enterprise. Any other communication had been through the device, and Soona did not know how to reply.

"Will you accompany me to sickbay to see the captain?"

Soona's eyes widened and, forgetting herself, she stopped in her tracks. "I'm to see the captain?"

"Yes," Nyota smiled again. "He'd like to speak with you as soon as possible."

"I didn't think he was well enough to see anyone, let alone me." She said, breathless in her shock. "I...I'd remind him of too much, wouldn't I? At least, that's what I thought has been the reason that he hasn't talked with me."

Nyota's smile waned. "It has been the reason, yes, but Dr. McCoy believes he will be able to handle this meeting and has allotted a small time frame before they need to begin his therapy again."

"Therapy," Soona repeated. It sounded ominous, and Soona could think of a million therapies one would need after living with the Re'an. Even now, she saw two different psychiatrists on the ship. Those sessions were difficult, given her torrent of emotion during and after. She was under no illusions that her transition to Terran life would be seamless.

"The therapy has helped him, and now, he's well enough to finally see you. The captain's looking forward to it, Soona."

"And so am I," Soona murmured, considering the last time she actually set eyes on Captain Kirk before both their worlds had fallen apart, like threads pulled on a beautiful tapestry gracing the walls of her Re'an home. His tapestry had been golden, rich with adventure and courage and strength but tinted with sadness and loss. Even from afar, it was clear that his friends defined the beauty woven into his tapestry. Sadly, the thread that the Re'an pulled mutilated the tapestry, leaving it in tatters. But his friends held fast. Hers, on the other hand, contained an entire life, the only one she remembered. While Kirk had been left with tatters, cruel and taunting what had been, she had been left with absolutely nothing and no one.

She couldn't determine which was worse until Nyota escorted her to sickbay, having to prod her along to greet Dr. McCoy.

The captain had been intimidating. She wasn't so naive to think that he would still look the part. The Re'an were not kind to the outsiders they melded with. She'd seen them afterwards and at times she'd helped care for the poor souls who had been forced to start a Re'an life. She stared at Dr. McCoy, wanting to know if the captain would look like those poor souls. It was an irrational fear. Dr. McCoy was an esteemed, skilled doctor who had probably helped Kirk already.

"He's fine," the doctor said.

"You're sure?" she whispered. "I cannot be the one who sabotages your work. I...am still very much Re'an."

Surgery would reverse what the Re'an had done to her, but that would be best done on planet - and she didn't want to leave the Enterprise. She was comfortable here and trying not to think of the day she'd have to leave this haven.

"Soona, he's blind," Dr. McCoy reminded her gently.

Soona brought her hands to her flushed cheeks. She'd forgotten, and it horrified her. Had she truly been that simple minded since Nyota told her she'd be speaking with the very man who had saved her?

"I...think it will be hard for him," she decided. "He could...sense things."

McCoy nodded, escorting her through sickbay to a back hallway. "That's true, and that is why he is on medication to ward off any reaction that could do more harm to him, including a reaction to the creature's scent. I've lowered the dosage for a little while, so he's more himself when he speaks with you. He'll manage, but it's a small window."

"I see," she said quietly. "I'm very sorry for my part in this."

"You did nothing wrong, Soona." McCoy said firmly. "You saved Jim the first time, allowing him the time he needed to make the decisions which led to your escape. The way I see it, the way Jim sees it, you had an integral part in delaying his capture. You also provided us with information which kept others from getting hurt."

"He knows what happened?" She asked as they stopped outside what she assumed to be the captain's room private room.

McCoy hesitated. "We've explained to him a few things, but he's not in a place where he can fully understand their context. However, he understands enough to speak with you."

McCoy stepped forward and the door slid open, but Soona's feet would not budge. The doctor's eyes softened.

"It's alright. Trust me - Jim has something he wants to tell you, so actually, you don't need to do any talkin' at all."

"It is not that," she said carefully. "I cannot thank him enough for what he did for me. He's...he's like this...because..."

The doctor quickly closed the door to the captain's room. "No," he said with a slight frown. "It is not your fault, and Jim would feel terrible if you said that to him."

Soona pursed her lips. It was her fault, but she most certainly couldn't stand here and argue with the good doctor. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Have you discussed this with your psychiatrist?" McCoy asked.

"Yes."

"Good." The doctor hesitated again. "Do you think you can do this today? Soona, if you feel uncomfortable, I will speak with you in my office."

"No, please. I can do this," she said more confidently, and soon, she was looking at a man who had saved her life at the expense of himself. McCoy alerted him of her presence, but he'd already noticed her. He smiled and greeted her, and that was when Soona's attention turned elsewhere. She swallowed, discovering that he appeared to be attached to his bed, the medication coursing through his body by way of the IV, a process which baffled Soona. She stared openly at the port in his hand, his warm smile, and then the fuzz on his head that was clearly darker than its previous golden shade.

"Your hair..." She blinked, saddened to see the change.

But Kirk just grinned. "It's just like the fuzz on a baby chick, or so Bones told me. Whatever it is, I'm glad to have it."

"Fuzzy," she murmured while her mind strained to imagine a baby chick in her backyard as a child. "And...darker."

"Bones told me that, too, just this morning," Kirk gave a helpless shrug, his bright smile dimming. "Not sure why it happened but maybe I can dye it later -"

"It looks good," she interjected, trying to explain herself. "It's very distinguished. Or, it will be...once it's...not fuzzy...or chick's...fur anymore. You wouldn't want to have chick's fur for hair, captain."

McCoy muffled laughter beside her, and Kirk's smile reached his eyes again. When Kirk laughed, Soona's nerves subsided only a little.

"Soona, I appreciate your honesty," McCoy squeezed Kirk's shoulder. "It's about time someone does something other than inflate his ego around here."

Soona decided that if she was sad for the captain, the doctor and acting captain were sure to be, as well. Her gaze settled on Kirk's blue, sightless eyes, and she inhaled sharply. Somehow she had failed to even say hello to him. Appalled at herself for forgetting basic human etiquette, she finally managed to utter her own greeting. An awkward pause ensued, and it was the gracefulness of the captain that bridged the moment.

"I'm glad you came to see me, Soona. We have news," Kirk said quietly. "Good news for you."

She wanted to cringe. Did they have good news for him?

"They found your parents, Soona," Kirk continued, his eyes not quite focused on her, but there was a gentleness about them which encouraged her to give him her full attention. "And your grandmother."

"My parents?" She whispered, afraid to attach any depth to her words. Had she heard him correctly? It seemed too good to be true.

"Yes, your parents," Kirk repeated gently.

"I...I have...family?"

"Cousins, too." Kirk gave a cheerful laugh, one reminiscent of his former self. "And your parents and grandmother are coming for you."

"When?" Her eyes widened.

"I know it seems soon, but your parents will arrive tomorrow as well as your grandmother." Kirk hesitated. "When we...when..."

His confusion was unexpected and in an instant, the doctor was speaking for the captain.

"We'll meet them at a Starbase," McCoy explained. "If you'd like one of us to be with you when you meet them, we will arrange that."

"I have family." A tear escaped from her tightly reined emotions. "I didn't think I'd have..."

Her breath hitched and for the captain's sake, she suppressed the strange feeling welling up inside of her. The captain was smiling, but it was not like the sun as before. She did not miss the way the doctor sent Kirk a concerned look and then quickly typed on his PADD.

"We want you to be comfortable, Soona," Kirk said. "If you need support -"

"Will you come with me?" She blurted out before she could stop herself.

Kirk's lips twitched. "I'll be there. I wouldn't miss it."

"You bet he'll be there, with his chick fuzz," McCoy mused.

"With a hat, thank you very much," Kirk quipped.

McCoy's eyes filled with fondness as he looked at the captain. "You do know your hats are a little fluffy already."

Kirk rolled his eyes. "That's me, a regular ball of fluff."

McCoy smiled and turned to Soona. "I will make sure that Jim will be there with you, Soona. In fact, I know he will be. Your grandmother will be helping him."

"Helping him?" She asked.

McCoy nodded. "Yes, but I am sure she'd prefer to talk with you herself about that."

Intrigued, Soona began to think what her grandmother could do to help the captain. She hadn't felt anything quite like this for a long time. She was nervous and emotional and...she hardly knew how to handle herself around these two important men, who obviously cared deeply for each other. She couldn't imagine her reaction if Acting Captain Spock was here, too. She managed a breathless, pitiful thank you before the captain fell asleep or was medicated again, for by the way McCoy was frowning and Kirk was furrowing his brow, she could not decipher the situation.

"Bones? Did I tell Soona?" Kirk's voice stretched thin.

"Yes, Jim, you did," McCoy said. "She just thanked you."

"Three, Bones," Kirk murmured. "She has family. That was the third thing, Bones."

Soona's heart twisted, and McCoy looked just as confused as she was by the captain's words. She'd obviously overstayed in her inability to appropriately converse with two members of her own species. She wasn't as confident as she once had been. The snakes were dying, and it seemed that the stronger parts the Re'an had formed within her were dying right along with them.

Would her relatives even accept her? Like the doctor and commander accepted their captain?

"I'll be right back, Jim." McCoy adjusted numbers on the screen beside the captain's bed and escorted Soona to the door. He handed her a PADD. "I'm sorry he wasn't a little more lucid towards the end. I had to increase his medication but he did better than I thought he would. Read this once you return to your quarters. It's from your grandmother."

Once Soona read the heartfelt letter, her insecurities faded and she could not think of anything else but her compassionate, Betazoid grandmother who would soon ease the pain of the man who'd saved her.

 

* * *

 

The next day arrived exactly how each hour passed for Jim - hazy, serene, and all a blur. Jim almost laughed outright. Who was he kidding. His entire fucking life was a blur right now. He couldn't make sense of anything, because if he even attempted to make sense of something, it merely displaced something else. He couldn't come to grips with his confusion, not even when Bones decreased the medication like he had an hour ago to allow Jim his bath.

Jim sighed as he dragged the towel over his face. He lifted the towel up to his head, rubbing his scalp before pausing. Resigned, he blamed Bones' drugs for making him forget he hardly had any hair. He dropped his hands and wrapped the towel around his waist. He took a seat beside the bathtub, waiting for Bones to help him because his depth perception seemed somewhat affected by the medication. Soon, Jim became caught up in his thoughts. If Aleyah was alive - and she was, because Bones confirmed that for him this morning- than who the hell had been with him in the sacred room after his crew escaped? He'd been told no one, and that was only one question he had. The other questions - or lies - swarmed in his mind, dragged down by the medication Bones had given him. He finally decided his questions were all linked, but by what he didn't know and he couldn't know for the endless fog hanging over him.

"You kept things from me to protect me," Jim told Bones when the doctor brought over his clothing.

"We did, Jim. We had no choice." Bones handed Jim a fresh shirt.

"I don't understand, Bones." Jim pulled the shirt over his head and took the pants Bones gave him. His right arm was stiff again but he managed to pull his boxers and pants on better than he expected.

"I know, but I think after a few more days we'll be able to explain more and then you will understand," Bones said, gently pushing Jim back down into his chair.

"Hey...what..."

"Sit," the doctor said.

Jim almost rolled his eyes when he heard the beeps of the tricorder.

"My arm's fine, Bones." Jim said to the overprotective doctor. He huffed a sigh as he was forced to remain both seated and still while Bones worked.

"I'm going to give you something for the pain," Bones said. "You are just days post-op, Jim. It'll be sore for a little while longer, but I don't want you distracted with this, too, today."

"Like I said, it's fine," Jim shook his head and tugged on the sleeves of his shirt. At least his body temperature was normal, but he almost shivered remembering the hours he spent chilled and uncomfortable in his own skin. "Where are we going again?"

"We're not going - we're here, Jim, at a Starbase. We arrived a few hours ago."

"Then why didn't you leave earlier?" Jim asked, confused. "I thought Soona was meeting her family."

"Spock had a few things to take care of after we docked, but her parents aren't here yet. Besides, we wait for our captain," Bones said lightly. "That's you, you know."

Jim blinked. "Me?"

"Who else wears fuzzy hats that we call captain?"

"They're not fuzzy or fluffy," Jim muttered under his breath. "They're soft," Jim said, defending Uhura's hats, which he loved. He needed those hats. When he pictured himself with the blonde hair that he didn't have, it pulled him into a dark place. "Bones, I hate my hair. There's not much there yet, and it's...it changed. Maybe you should just shave it off."

"I don't think you hate your hair, Jim," Bones said softly.

Jim willed back his tears. "Maybe I do," he mumbled. "It's different."

It was too different. He was too different.

"You're right that it's not the same." Bones said gently, "but is it going to really change who you are?"

"No." Jim gave a short, bitter laugh. The Re'an already did that for him.

"I, for one, like your hair," Bones announced.

Jim sighed. Of course Bones would say that. "Just because you're my best friend doesn't -"

"It's exactly why I need to say it to you. It's true. I like it, and I'm going to tell you because you need a little encouragement to get through this next step."

Jim nodded, but he didn't recall what the next step was. He leaned back in the chair, waiting.

"Soona's grandmother is a Betazoid healer," Bones said. "And she believes she can help you."

"You've told me this before." Jim frowned. "Right?"

"Yes, but it isn't unusual to forget things when undergoing this type of drug treatment, Jim."

"She has empathic healing abilities," Jim murmured, deciding he needed more than encouragement. What if it didn't work? What if he was stuck like this forever? "Bones?"

"Yeah, Buddy," Bones said softly.

"I'm going to have to...to go away from the Enterprise...aren't I?" The thought of being sent away from Bones and Spock sent him reeling.

"I don't think you need to worry about that right now, Jim." Bones sighed. "In fact, I know you can't worry about things like this. Do you remember what Admiral Archer said? He told you specifically, Jim, that you have nothing to worry about."

"But, I'm too different, even with some of me the same," Jim said. He swallowed, frightened his world was going to fall apart again. He didn't even know what was the same unless they told him. Having what felt like a tantrum and removing all his clothing from his dresser didn't seem like a positive character trait of the old him, but what did he know?

Close to fucking nothing about his life at all.

"Jim, I need to safely transport you from sickbay to your quarters before Soona's family arrives. Your scans were a little worrisome this morning and now your heart rate is increasing because you're upset." Bones paused, and Jim could hear the scowl forming on Bones' face. "I'm not sure lowering the dosage was a good idea. This may prove difficult once you meet Elise, but I'm going to have to give you a little something so we don't have a problem. We're too close to the end here to chance anything, Jim."

Lost in his thoughts, he barely registered the fact that Bones was leading him to his bed again, nor did he feel the pinch in his neck. The next time he heard Bones' voice calling softly for him, Jim dragged open his eyes.

By the shape of the ceiling and lights around him, Jim instantly deduced they were no longer in sickbay.

"Bones? Where are we?" Jim croaked out. He rubbed his eyes, cringing, finally resorting to lifting his hand up to shade his eyes. He sat up, hands coming alongside to support him as he swung his legs over the side of his bed. "My quarters?"

"Yes, we are. It'll be the most comfortable place for you, Jim," Bones said. "Do you think you can get to your couch?"

Jim grunted and soon was sitting somewhat limply, Bones' hand on his shoulder. He was given a glass of water and told to give himself a minute.

"Bones, whadya you give me?" He kneaded his forehead.

"I'm sorry, Jim, but it's not what you think. It was only a light sedative."

"Light?" Jim sighed. "My head is too damn heavy, Bones."

"I couldn't take a chance that your brain activity was going to skyrocket with the stress put on you today, but I also didn't want you floating any higher than you already are," Bones explained. "While you were out of it, we made  it here in style and you had a few hours more to rest. I know your head feels thick, but you're still relaxed, which will be the best thing for you when you meet Elise."

Bones was right. Jim was relaxed. Soft music began playing and, lounging on his couch, Jim fell into a peaceful state of awareness that he could not escape. Neither did he want to.

"Jim?" Bones said quietly after some time. "Soona's visit with her grandmother ended and now Uhura is bringing Elise."

Hearing Soona's name, Jim dragged his mind back to Bones. "But, Soona. Her grandmother. Parents. She didn't want to be alone."

"She wasn't," Bones said. "Uhura went with her and Soona understood."

Jim began to drift off again, but then he noticed the silent form standing beside him. "Spock?" He murmured, catching the commander's sleeve as he moved away. "Please don't go."

"I assumed you would prefer to be alone during this session with Elise and Dr. McCoy."

At the thought of Spock leaving, Jim found himself suddenly and strangely very awake.

"Hell, no," Jim gave a short laugh and threw out the first excuse that came to his mind. "You're my bond buddy."

Bones snorted.

"Captain, I believe that is not the appropriate term," Spock replied.

Jim sighed, absently drumming his fingers on the arm of the couch. "Spock, we have a bond. And I'm on Bones' drugs. And I was...am...a captain. Your captain. You can't argue. You're my bond buddy."

"He's got a point, Spock," Bones chuckled.

"Bond buddies?" Jim tilted his head back and peered up at the form to his right. When he realized the familiarity of his actions, his heart skipped a beat. "Kapish?"

"As you wish, Jim," Spock said.

"But you have to say it," Jim deadpanned.

"Jim?"

Bones guffawed. "God Almighty, Jim..."

"It's not real unless you say it." Warm and content and enjoying his best friend's reaction, Jim could hardly keep a straight face.

"Jim, you just insulted Spock, saying his Vulcan vodoo isn't real!"

"Captain, may I -"

Jim's eyes widened innocently at Bones. "I insulted him? I'm not the one who uses the word 'voodoo.'"

"Doctor, the captain is correct in suggesting that your use of voodoo to refer to my telepathic abilities carries negative connotations," Spock said.

"You hear that, Bonesy? You better think twice about calling it voodoo." Maybe it was Bones' drugs, but he could imagine the doctor's scowl quite clearly. He closed his eyes and smiled.

Bones groaned. "How the hell did this get turned around on me?"

"Captain, I-"

"Bond buddy, Spock." Jim sighed. "Bond buddy."

"Oh, for the love of - "

"Not now, Bones. 'm busy." Jim opened his eyes and waved his hand in dismissal. "Spock, where were we?"

"I believe we were debating the proper way to address the one with whom we have a bond."

"Right, or bond buddies," Jim said cheekily. He glanced up at the gray form of Spock, that familiar feeling sweeping over him again as he waited.

"Captain, although it is not the correct term," Spock stated, "I shall, from henceforth, call us...bond buddies."

Jim's lips curved upward in satisfaction, and as Jim imagined the Vulcan's steady, warm eyes looking back down at him, his guest arrived.

 

* * *

 

She heard them as she stood outside the the captain's quarters, pausing before she announced her presence.

Their light-heartedness charmed her. Their friendship inspired her. Their love for one another was the most exceptional thing she had ever felt in her life, and the simple joy they had at being at each other's side, where they wanted to be, was humbling. She wished all could feel as they did at this very moment.

Her granddaughter had begged Elise to heal the captain, and her tears had been testament that the captain was well-loved by those who'd met him. But these two friends, a doctor and first officer, were living, breathing proof that the suffering, blind captain had captured hearts and had bound the three of them to each other in a way that they didn't even know was possible.

Elise steadied herself. Although she knew that the task would be challenging, it would be most fulfilling for the captain in the end. There was hope. Pieces of James T. Kirk would return, and Elise would not abandon the captain until she'd done all that she could do to heal this young man. Right before the doors slid open, Elise gave the captain the first bit of healing.

It was more than a memory, it was a connection to his first officer that the Vulcan bond between them could not provide. She felt Kirk's happiness at realizing that a part of him was, indeed, like the captain they loved. She then heard the Vulcan's amused response and the doctor's mock disbelief, which, in turn, delighted Jim even more.

And so, after a calm, cleansing breath and with a desire to bring them hope, she stepped inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted Jim and Elise to meet this chapter...but it didn't feel "right" to end the chapter that way. Despite that, it was a happy ending and a promise for more, right? ;) 
> 
> Speaking of the 'more,' I am asking for forgiveness when this story slides right past the 150k mark. I have totally failed at gauging the word count. It is taking me longer than I thought to tie things up but I can't rush the ending - to do so would be a disservice to the story and to you as readers! However, I also won't drag it out unnecessarily. Hopefully, it'll be just right. :) Thanks for your patience!


	35. Chapter 35 Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are at the beginning of Part Three! Yay! This is a pretty big chapter as far as info, and I am hoping as you read, it fills in some gaps. I'll be honest - it's also a little bittersweet. :) Thank you for reading!

As Soona's grandmother entered his quarters Jim found himself at a loss for words, but he couldn't stay on his couch. She was there to help him, and he was equally determined to be respectful and act like the captain he once was, should be...and wanted to be.

"Bones?" Jim said quietly, already pushing himself up off of the couch.

"You're going to be light-headed, Jim. Maybe you should sit-"

"No, Bones. Please," Jim shook his head. "I'm standing."

"Aright, but I'm not letting go. Don't forget that, Jim," Bones said and helped him to his feet. Warmth filled Jim's heart as he heard Bones' cryptic words.

Still, he hung back when Spock greeted Elise because mere seconds before Elise's arrival, Jim sensed something was different about himself. He'd never felt like this before. At least he couldn't remember ever feeling this confident, not even when he'd stood up to those creatures. That had been adrenaline mixed with the desire to be their captain. But this...it had to be the captain returning, filling a little of the empty places in his heart. He didn't understand the captain like he should but when that moment came, something happened. He was captain as he'd looked up at Spock - and he'd embraced it.

"Elise, thank you for coming," Jim finally managed when she came and stood before him. He may feel like a little bit of the captain, but ironically, he couldn't help but be a little terrified. The Re'an had changed...no...they had _destroyed_ the James T. Kirk that he'd once been. If his assumption was correct, Elise, in the short moment she had waited outside his quarters, made a small change in him back to that man. It was a break in the dismal, hanging clouds following him, and he didn't know how to reconcile these two forces at work.

_You don't need to, Captain. It will come._

"Captain Kirk, it is a pleasure to meet you," Elise's low voice soothed him as much as her silent words spoken in the privacy of his mind.

"It's Jim, please." Jim stopped and took a breath, the next words on the tip of his tongue when a lump formed in his throat.

Up until very recently, before he decided he wanted to be captain, it was what he'd told everyone - _I'm not captain._ As he struggled, her presence enveloped him. Unlike when Spock was in his mind as a humming presence or a calm that washed over him, she provided a cocoon, a safe, warm and healing place. Jim closed his mouth, slightly dropping his shoulders. It was clear to him. There was no doubt in his mind that a small part of him truly was the captain both Bones and Spock loved and who loved them in return. He never really believed that he was this captain in his current mental state. How could he? He remembered nothing of the captain's skills or his ship. He had no sound or solid memory that he could actually connect with.

But now he did have a connection, and it had taken this woman to teach him this. All he did was look up at his first officer and then he saw the thousand times that the captain - that he - had done that exact same thing.

A thousand times, and the Re'an had stolen them all from him. One moment from Elise, and Jim found a little of himself. "It was you, wasn't it?"

"It was," she answered.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"You're welcome, captain," she replied, voice warm.

"Jim?" Bones asked.

"I think I feel like...like a little bit of the old me, Bones," Jim said with a laugh, his laugh dying when the room suddenly tilted. He closed his eyes and reached with his mind for Spock to stabilize himself, thinking the Vulcan would be able to help. But, ever since Elise's arrival, Jim's control of his bond with Spock had diminished - and that having been after it already diminished in the midst of the drug therapy. He heard the Betazoid and Vulcan conversing with each another in his head. They spoke softly, and Jim couldn't pick up a single word. He didn't know what they spoke of, and sadly, he knew very well that it was the Re'an part of him coming to light when he couldn't find it within himself to intrude. Jim's body sagged without warning as the intrusion continued, but an arm already wrapped around his waist. His chin dropped to his chest and his knees dipped towards the ground, but the doctor held fast.

"Jim?" Bones asked urgently. "Ya alright?"

Before he could answer, Spock slid his arm around Jim's waist from the other side and placed Jim's arm across his shoulders. "Captain, it would be prudent for you to be seated while Elise and I discuss what we already know about the Re'an telepathy and what measures I took to assist you."

"In my head?" Jim asked Spock, breathless. His curiosity was rising but so was his strong desire to remain a bystander. It was clearly a battle of wills.

"It is imperative we do so without delay." Spock said, helping Bones as they carried him back to the couch. "But it will be taxing."

"I apologize for our intrusion, captain, but it is necessary before we begin anything else," Elise said warmly. "I know you are concerned for the well-being of first officer, Jim, and that is why I sense the urgency in resolving those memory shatters. I'd like to tell you that I could begin differently, with a gentler approach but that will have to wait. Captain, please, don't be anxious. Your doctor will be with you this entire time."

"I understand," Jim murmured.

Jim submitted to their guidance as another pair of hands and three quiet voices urged him to lie down. He found himself on his side, blinking his eyes frequently as the gray forms moved in front of him, talking with one another. His mind felt like it was drifting with the clouds, with murmurs of the healer, doctor, and Vulcan surrounding him. One gray form finally blocked his vision and when he heard the tricorder, Jim squeezed his eyes in relief that it was Bones. He didn't mind the pinch in his neck that came without warning. Or the next one. They must need him drugged. He hated being in this state, but the captain hated it more.

Feeling useless, Jim struggled to remain still. "What should I do?"

"Not a single thing, Jim," Bones murmured in his ear. "They just told me they need to resolve the memory shatters first before anything else or Elise won't be able to work at all with that as a threat. And to resolve those episodes, they need to examine your mind through Spock's bond and Elise's telepathy, and I must continue to keep you relaxed and somewhat lucid."

"It could hurt her..." Jim reached for Bones, fumbling in his search until he found his bicep. He clutched Bones' shirt, pleading. "Bones, if this could hurt her -"

"It's not going to," Bones said firmly. "And you're going to lie here, not thinking of that, alright? In fact, Jim, Elise said it was more important for us to keep talking while they examine the Re'an barrier -"

"Barrier?" Jim didn't recall anything like that being discussed. His hand tightened on the doctor's arm.

"Yeah, Jim," Bones hesitated. "The Re'an created a mental block that has hidden the truth from you, including the memories they didn't want you to remember but allowed you to keep, but only if they stored it for you."

"Like your mom's house?" Jim murmured, sadness washing over him. He hoped that it was a memory the Re'an actually stored and hadn't thrown away.

"My mama's house?" Bones asked.

"I don't remember it." Jim closed his eyes, focusing on the drawl of the doctor and the image of a garden. "It's gone, Bones. I've tried...but I only see the garden. I only hear Mrs. McCoy's voice. No house, Bones."

Bones was quiet. "I didn't know, Jim. I'm sorry."

"I shouldn't have told you." Jim winced, mad at himself. He really hadn't meant to tell Bones. He'd wanted to protect his friends from the hurtful things that he did or didn't remember. "I didn't before...because I know it would upset you and..."

"Jim, don't think for a moment that I'm going to dwell on that. I know it hurts, and I do feel sad. But Jim? I'm thankful that you are here with us." Bones took a deep breath. "In fact, if that memory doesn't return, just think of our first visit back to Georgia after this five year mission. You'll be seeing that old house for the first time, and the first time you saw it, Jim, you were like a kid trying to find very nook and cranny."

Jim gave him a small smile. "Hiding places. From my grumpy, stingy doctor when I sneak pieces of your mom's pies and need a safe place to eat them."

"Sounds about right," Bones said softly.

"Or when I played hide 'n seek with Jo." Jim saddened. "Bet Jo loves that house."

"Yeah, she does." Bones' voice grew thick with emotion and then Jim remembered.

"Bones. I'm sorry," Jim whispered. "I didn't meant to mention Jo, because of...of Jocelyn."

Bones sighed. "About that, Jim..."

Jim's heart stopped. He recognized that tone of voice. "There's no problem with Jocelyn, is there?"

"There...there hasn't been, at least not at this time."

"What do you mean, not at this time?" Jim asked slowly.

"Right before we set off into the black, Jocelyn made a stab at it."

Jim frowned. "She tried to steal Jo? Because you were leaving for five years?"

"It seemed that way, Jim, and...you didn't take that news well," Bones paused. "Neither did I, for that matter."

"Bones, you didn't do anything drastic..." He held his breath.

"If you hadn't come that night, I probably would've created a scenario that could've allowed Jocelyn to strip away my rights. When she first started process, I wasn't allowed to see or talk with Jo. Things looked very, very dismal."

A dismal Bones wasn't something Jim wanted to think about. "Bones, what did you do," Jim asked tentatively.

Bones gave a short, dry laugh. "I was upset and, at first, not coping well. There was so much going on and it was so close to us going out into the black that I admit that I was drinking a little too much one evening. You commed me that night, and I never once thought you'd pick up on it because you were flying from one thing to another preparing for the big day. But, as my superior officer - and friend - you rightfully called me out on it and told me that I better not drink another drop or I'd probably find myself going down a path I would later regret. I refused to listen. I had every intention of quitting after the second night, but I didn't want you to know that because I wanted to wallow in self pity for one more night."

"You shouldn't wallow, Bones," Jim frowned.

"Yeah, well, I should've known better. Of course my best friend hadn't missed a damn thing. That second night, you and Spock came to my place before I got too inebriated and involved myself in a nasty phone call. I'll just leave it at that," Bones paused. "Oh, I guess I should tell you that she stopped pursuing sole custody after someone found some dirt on her boyfriend. That was opposite in your state of mind when we rescued you from the Re'an. You believed that Jocelyn had found - "

"Things from your past she hadn't even known before," Jim muttered. "To take Jo from you."

"Yes, Jim. That's what you thought," Bones said quietly. "But that's not the truth. This is. Someone threatened Jocelyn's boyfriend with his past. Turned out he was the one pushing her to play nasty all along. She ended up dropping the case - and him. Good riddance, I say, for more than one reason. Jocelyn isn't a bad mother or a bad person, but that guy? He's a different story. I owe ya, Jim."

Jim blinked. "Me?"

"Who else would risk his own skin to save my little girl?" Bones grouched. "Yeah. It was you, but Spock had something to do with it, too, keeping you out of trouble. Seems like we have each other's backs, pal."

Shooting pain traveled up his right arm and grimacing, Jim loosened the grip he had on Bones' arm. "Then why did I think...then why...I'm confused, Bones."

"Why did you think that it happened during this mess with the Re'an?" Bones asked in a calm voice. "Hold on, Jim. I'm going to give you something for the pain in that arm of yours."

It didn't make sense to Jim. A lot of what Bones said before didn't make sense either. He felt like he was floating, compared to the utter heaviness of his mind before Elise arrived. After a moment, there was a familiar pinch to Jim's neck, and Bones continued in a soft drawl.

"They twisted your thinking in that damn meld, Jim. They took your fears and made them terrible memories and ideas in your head for more than two weeks while you were...well..."

"Bones?" Jim's pulse began to race. That didn't sound good, and his stomach clenched at Bones' sudden silence. "What do you mean...what was I?"

"I can't tell you that part yet," Bones murmured. "Let's just say you were out of it, and then ever since, some of these fake memories have been tied up, some not, and you've been stuck with a bunch of lies...but back to Jocelyn. My guess is that since it was a fairly recent and involved your best friend, the memory would've be fresh and easier to use against you."

Bones stroked Jim's head, the repeated motion sending him to an even more relaxed state. Jim nestled deeper into the couch.

"They must have seen how upset you had been, Jim," Bones said. "You were as upset as I was because you were concerned for both me and Jo, and the way I reacted to Jocelyn's antics wasn't healthy."

It didn't make sense to Jim, but maybe this meant that they had never had weeks of ongoing tension between them. "Then, we never were...were having a major disagreement about my past, were we, Bones?"

"No, pal, we weren't," Bones said softly. "Tarsus never entered the picture except for one time, and even then it wasn't giving you any long-standing problems. Tarsus was a fear they used against you, just like the other."

"Bones...No Tarsus? No..." Jim's next words were lost in a relieved, breathless sob.

"Hey, buddy, it's okay," Bones said. "No Tarsus, Jim."

But Jim was still as confused as hell. He'd gotten lost as soon as Bones first said that the Re'an used his fears against him...or maybe his confusion began even earlier than that...but he'd take the confusion. So as long as he hadn't hurt his friend by being a stubborn idiot and Bones hadn't lost his own control over Jocelyn's selfishness because Jo needed her dad, too. Jim would spend a million lifetimes confused if it meant his friends weren't hurt.

"Hey, don't say that," Bones said gently.

"Say what?" Jim wondered aloud.

"Yeah, this conversation may not be going as smoothly as you think it is, Jim. You're muttering things, skipping over some words and slurring them, but I'm practiced in 'Jim Kirk is drugged' language."

Jim's brow creased. He wasn't slurring his words, was he?

"You are slurring your words, Jim, but I'm catching every single thing, so don't you worry." Bones continued stroking Jim's head. "I know some of what was going through your head at that time and getting your past thrown in your face and not being able to deal with it isn't being a stubborn idiot. It's called trauma, post-traumatic stress, and a myriad of other things. As your physician, and even though it was all in your head, I should have stepped up to the plate, Jim."

Jim just stared at Bones' gray form. He thought he should know what that last part meant, but he had nothing.

"Right." Bones muttered. "Sorry about that, Jim. I forgot you don't understand most idioms and sometimes Standard, in general -"

"Bones, I'm even more confused," Jim confessed.

Bones sighed. "What I mean is this, Jim. I should have stopped it the first day I saw the problems coming, and it was no wonder things escalated when I didn't stop it."

"But it wasn't real," Jim murmured.

"No, it wasn't, Jim." Bones engulfed one of Jim's hands in both of his. "And I'm very sorry you felt the pain of that. Between that and the situation with Jo in your mind that got twisted up, I caused you enough pain. I don't think I can forgive the other me in those damn manifestations."

Manifest - _what_? "That's illogical." Despite being under the influence of Bones' drugs and having two other minds mess with his mind in the background, Jim was a little proud he could manage responding like his bond buddy would - logically.

Bones gave a short laugh. "Yeah, Jim, you're right. It doesn't make sense, but it's how I feel."

"But I forgive you," Jim said with all the sincerity his state allowed him.

"I know you do," Bones said, voice thick. "Because it's the twelfth time I've explained these things to you while Elise looks into your brain, buddy."

Jim closed his eyes, fighting a whimper. He was exhausted. And no wonder. Twelve times? That didn't seem possible. Whatever time it was, it better be time for stopping soon. He was tired. He was...Bones was talking, and Jim forced his eyes open to listen.

"Jim, stay with me, alright? I need you to focus."

Jim nodded. Since they all needed Jim to focus, and since Jim was a little bit of the captain, he was going to make damn sure he did all that they said so he could be more of the captain.

"Twelve, Bones?" Jim asked, hesitant. He hoped that Bones would tell him he was wrong and he wasn't telling Jim this over and over all for Jim's sake. He knew Bones - his friend would be hurting, maybe even feeling guilty that he had to explain these things to Jim.

"Yes, Jim," Bones continued gently. "Twelve. And every time I've explained this, you tell me that. 'I forgive you, Bones.' "

Jim blinked at him, still in disbelief. Every time? Had Bones really said he'd explained this twelve times? He would have remembered at least by the sixth time, wouldn't he? Or at least, by the eighth?

"I know what you're thinkin' again, Jim," Bones said. "You don't know how this could be the twelfth time we've discussed all of this, but it is. Believe me, I didn't want to talk about it - "

Jim nodded, frowning. He remembered now how difficult it had been to get anything out of Bones that first week after Jocelyn had pulled that stunt.

"Yeah, you understand how hard this is for me, Jim. You also understand what would have happened if Jocelyn's boyfriend could have gotten away with it. Jo wouldn't have been able to spend some of the next five years at my mama's house, for one. She'd be stuck in a home where the boyfriend..." Bones' voice trailed off.

"Bones - " Jim reached for his friend. He knew what could've happened. God, he knew.

"I'm alright, Jim." Bones whispered. "The truth is, Jim, I haven't thought too hard about any of this since before the Re'an mission. Thinking of it these past weeks would only remind me of how the Re'an continuously used me against you. How the mere mention of me in those manifestations hurt you...how I failed you as your friend and doctor. Once or twice I found myself almost going down this road, thinking of all this again. It happened just a few days ago, actually, but I had to force it from my mind so I could take care of you properly, Jim."

"You don't have to talk about it now, Bones. Upsets you." Jim frowned. "'m fine."

"No," Bones shook his head. "You're not fine yet, Jim. Elise needs me to talk about this with you so that you learn more of the truth. I think we'll have gone over this story enough that you'll actually remember when the meds wear off...and who knows...maybe they will be real memories once Elise is done."

"She's done?" Jim asked, slightly confused.

"Not yet, Buddy," Bones paused. "You know I'd do anything for you, Jim, even this."

Jim understood. He'd do the same.

Bones squeezed his hand. "We're getting there, Jim. Each time we talk and you listen. It's getting better. Each time, we're getting through more and more of what happened."

"We?" Jim asked tiredly.

"Spock is helping Elise, although she is doing most of the work. They say it's going to take time. Elise will come up for air soon once she stabilizes the barrier and the memory shatters can't harm you or Spock anymore. These exercises help, Jim," Bones said gently.

"Help what, Bones?" Jim asked, confused as to why he couldn't sense Elise in his mind.

"Elise discovered very quickly after arriving to your quarters that the medication I gave you misleads the Re'an barrier. It doesn't know that we're giving you the truth so it can't launch those memory shatters at you or react in another negative manner. Neither does it know she's working to change it. Who knew that being heavily medicated actually sabotages what they did to you? She also says that giving the truth in small doses the next few days will soften the blow of the severest memories that slip past the barrier in the future, because Elise can't get rid..."

Bones went silent.

"Bones?" Jim's skin prickled. "Elise can't what?"

"Sorry, Jim," Bones said softly. "I guess I can't tell you that part yet, but I don't want you to worry. I can tell you that they've tested this hypothesis on this one incident, one of the worst ones, and it's helping as Elise works. The Re'an aren't going to win, Jim, I promise. Ya with me?"

Jim nodded, although he didn't quite catch all of what his friend said. Even so, Jim was with Bones all the way, and hoped that Spock was there, too.

"He is, Jim. I promise."

 

* * *

  

"She succeeded in changing the barrier," Spock told McCoy. The doctor sagged into a seat at the captain's table. Spock stood close to the doctor, hands behind his back as he observed the fatigue emanating from McCoy. The doctor rubbed his eyes, the circles under his eyes darker than they were yesterday. Spock considered that the doctor had received insufficient rest and would require sleep as soon as possible. "I believe that it would be safe for you to return to your quarters for the duration of the night."

"Will you return to yours?"

"There is no need for me to do so," Spock said. "I do not require sleep, doctor."

"Meditation?" McCoy rubbed his jaw and sighed. "Spock, you need that as much as I need sleep after this day."

"I will meditate at a later time, once Elise is finished."

"You'll stay with Jim, then?"

It was a simple request with only one answer. "Indeed, I will." Spock said, staring at the sleeping man on the couch. He fought the illogical urge to awaken him and demand that their former friend return. The proper steps must first be achieved. To interfere with the procedure would be detrimental to the captain.

"But she isn't finished, is she?" McCoy glanced at the serene woman sitting in a chair next to Jim. Her eyes closed and face relaxed, Elise betrayed nothing of her work.

"No, she is not. There is a stabilization process now that she altered the barrier." Spock paused. "It is now translucent. There are memories behind it that she can retrieve and those which will find their way to the surface on their own."

He left unsaid those memories which were bound behind the barrier indefinitely or forever.

"Not sure I like the thought of this thing in Jim's head," McCoy said quietly.

"I concur, doctor, but removing the barrier is impossible," Spock said.

"Now that we know that, it changes everything, Spock." McCoy tipped his head back, his eyes resting on Jim's face.

"Everything?" Spock echoed, wanting to disagree but giving the opportunity for the doctor to explain himself further.

"Yes, everything." McCoy said, eyes flickering with emotion. "Jim is everything to everyone on this ship, including me, and he's changed. He is never going to be the same, Spock. That barrier is there forever, and so are the Re'an traits which are contained in that damn thing. We lost him. We really did lose him."

"Doctor, that is illogical. He is alive," Spock said firmly, as if that was all that mattered.

If he were to be honest with himself, Spock understood that for both he and McCoy, it was not all that mattered. It was a most illogical thought, given the history of Jim Kirk.

McCoy straightened and stared at Spock. "We have lost the Jim that we knew. That man we came out into the black with is gone. He will never be the same, Spock. Never. And although I love the new Jim just as much as the old him and expect that he's going to be an even different man tomorrow than he is today, part of me is going to mourn the old him. I don't want Jim to ever know, Spock, but we're all going to mourn him a little. I suspect that even you will mourn him."

The doctor was correct, but Spock refused to look away and succumb to his emotions. Once he began to mourn, he feared his controls would fail and he would then falter. How would he lead Jim's crew in his stead or remain the first officer Jim needs if he allowed himself to dwell on what was lost or on what could never be again?

"It is not shameful or illogical to agree with Dr. McCoy, Commander. These are natural emotions, even given your Vulcan heritage," Elise said softly. McCoy glanced at her in surprise. Spock was startled only slightly, expecting her to be at work controlling the barrier. "Do not worry. The captain's mind is safe for the time being since I've stabilized and changed the barrier. I will resume with the next step once he's rested, but I cannot wait long. There is a small window during which I can retrieve the captain's memories that the Re'an left accessible behind the barrier."

"Do you have an idea of what those are?" McCoy's brow furrowed.

"I do," she said with the same, smooth tone, but her eyes grew serious as she watched the doctor. "You wonder if he will be able to retain his captaincy, Dr. McCoy."

McCoy nodded. "Yes."

"If he is incapable of retaining his captaincy now or in the future, we must determine another way to procure his status on the Enterprise," Spock said.

"I see," she said slowly. "As I said before, it is not shameful or wrong to mourn the friend he once was to you."

McCoy's eyes saddened. "So he won't."

"No, you misunderstand. I believe as you mourn, you will also embrace who he has become and the friend he still is. He will not be so much changed that you do not recognize your old friend and captain." She paused, her lips forming a small smile. "Especially your captain."

Spock's burden instantly lightened. This was satisfactory, indeed. "You will be able to return the captain's knowledge and skills to him."

She beamed. "Now that the barrier is translucent, I discovered that the Re'an left them quite accessible."

"Thank you, Elise..." Eyes full of relief, McCoy exhaled a slow breath and put his head in his hands. "Thank you."

"Their accessibility suggests that the Re'an planned to utilize the captain's knowledge and skills in the future," said Spock. He had not expected that his rage towards the Re'an could ever intensify. In light of this new development, however, he had assumed too much.

"Those bastards," McCoy said, raising his head. He stood up from his chair and ran a hand through his hair, watching Jim. "They were going to use him in more ways than one."

Spock clasped his hands behind his back, refraining from joining the doctor in a quiet, somber study of their captain. Instead, he sought to suppress his inner turmoil. He required meditation to properly manage these emotions but he could not yet remove himself from Jim or McCoy's presence.

"Yes, it seems that way," Elise nodded. "Perhaps they intended to utilize his skills once he was completely immersed into their way of life."

She hesitated.

"You saw something," McCoy frowned.

Troubled, Spock instantly queried her. "Did you ascertain how they were to use the captain?"

"I cannot be certain, but I saw vague impressions on the barrier revealing that they did not wish to remain on Re'an V. Your captain is very intelligent- I could see this from my time working with the barrier. I am not surprised they would use your captain to their advantage."

"They disappeared from the Federation decades ago," McCoy murmured. "Hell, if they'd managed to survive their degenerating state, they would have vanished again. And looking for a Jim who was manipulated into disappearing would have been like looking for a needle in a galaxy-sized haystack."

Spock arched a brow. "It is to no one's benefit to calculate the numerous possibilities the Re'an could have used the captain."

"Spock, I can't help it. It's how I'm processing that any of this has turned out for the better good. And Jim is...he's..." The doctor's eyes narrowed. "Wait...you are struggling with these changes in Jim more than you let on."

"I must meditate," Spock said simply.

McCoy arched a brow. "Knowing that, it may be better if I remain here for both you and Jim. I can sleep even if he still has a habit of snoring once in awhile. If what Elise says is true, then after tomorrow, Jim will be more like our captain - and when he finds out these details, he will be furious to learn what their intentions were."

"He will be pleased to know that the Re'an's safeguards foiled their own plans," Spock said, countering the grim 'what-if' of the doctor.

"Leave it to Jim Kirk and his no-win scenarios." McCoy's eyes shone with pride. "Imagine that."

"Even in the morning, he will be more like the man you both lost," Elise regarded them calmly. "Be patient with him. He is experiencing strong emotions. They will rage like a wild river as he adjusts to himself. He will need both of you to help him, and may I suggest you be honest with each other about what you are feeling. Hiding your emotions from him will be detrimental to his healing, and if you are unsure, wait for word from me that it is safe to express yourself."

McCoy looked at Spock. "Tomorrow, Jim will find that we've never been more behind him."

It was with great pleasure that Spock silently agreed.

 

* * *

 

 

With only one thing on his mind - coffee - Jim made his way from the burrow that was his couch to the replicator. He knew Bones must be asleep on his bed. Bones' scent was easy to identify. Spock's was a lot harder but Jim only needed to try to use their bond to find him - he was sitting in a chair by the couch. Careful not to make any noise and thus disturb the meditating Vulcan, Jim was forced to take his time navigating his quarters. At least Bones had set his cane by the couch. He'd also attached a note to it, for which Jim was grateful. Jim smiled as he remembered the note and detoured to the table instead. More important than coffee was this small device. Bones told him that if he awakened early, he was to contact Elise using the comm on the table. Jim brushed his hand across the table and found his comm. He gripped it tightly in his hand and his smile widened.

This just wasn't any comm. It was _his_ comm. It was part of his life, and it was freedom. So, after Jim got his cup of coffee, he commed Elise, who was staying in the best guest quarters available on the Enterprise. It was a fact which pleased Jim, and he made a mental note to thank Spock for arranging that for her. If she was here to help him, he wanted her to be as comfortable as possible. As soon as he knew she would be on her way in thirty minutes, he estimated ten minutes for himself to get ready, which was correct, and a remaining twenty minutes to comm anyone else he wished to talk to.

He sank onto the bed beside Bones, deciding that his best friend could put up with his disturbance more than Spock, since he was the one who wrote in the note exactly who would be awake at this early hour after all.

He commed Sulu first, a bit surprised he was at the top of the list but pleased because it was a short conversation for him to ease in to. Uhura was next on the list, which was perfect because by then, his pure joy at speaking with his senior crew became unease as he realized it must have been a set up.

"Uhura," Jim whispered as Bones finally stirred. "Why the hell are every single one of you up at this torturous hour? The list includes all of my senior command crew. All!"

Her smug smile came through the comm. _"Captain, I don't know what you're talking about."_

"Don't play games with me, Lieutenant," he said with as much authority as possible.

 _"Your comm is not only a communicative device, it's a way to talk with your friends."_ Jim swore she was laughing at him on the other side.

"At almost five in the morning?" Jim's voice cracked loudly.

"Christ, Kid," Bones groaned, shuffling the covers. "Keep it down."

"And Dr. Marcus is on this list." Jim felt like protesting on behalf of the science officer, who probably detested early shifts or being forced to be up in case an absent, slightly reluctant captain happened to comm her.

_"Of course she is."_

"She's number four, Uhura, after Mr. Scott," Jim tried to whisper. "I'm not sure she'll be up. She's the type that sleeps in, right?"

Uhura snorted, but she tried to hide it with a demure throat clearing. Sighing, Jim leaned back onto the closest pillow, which he now shared with Bones. He didn't blame Uhura for laughing at him. Jim knew perfectly well that Carol was the type who would get up early, especially if it was to get her hands on her work. The woman risked her own life for a doctor and a damn torpedo. Waking up early was nothing. Jim was just...he was...trying to find himself.

 _"Captain, let me explain,"_ Uhura said softly, _"Spock and Dr. McCoy both thought you'd need to spread your wings this morning and they assumed using the comm would be easiest."_

"Yeah, it would be except I...I..." Jim sighed again. His friends had known exactly what he'd need this morning...almost.

 _"What's wrong,"_ she asked gently.

"It's great, but..." Jim hesitated again, hoping he wouldn't seem ungrateful.

 _"Captain,"_ Uhura said, _"I won't understand what you need unless you tell me."_

"I need to talk to my mom," Jim finally confessed. Actually, he wanted to talk with his mom.

 _"I see,"_ Uhura's tone softened more.

"It's been weeks...and since we have a better relationship than before and I haven't contacted her lately, I think she'll be worried."

Jim didn't think he talked to his mother more than once or twice a month, but it had been well over that, already. It was at the back of his mind that although they had shared tragic history and an even greater shared history of miscommunication, he could not wait much longer to speak with her. Maybe now that he understood a little more he would be more capable of answering her questions. Or, hell...maybe by the time Uhura found where his mom was to contact her Jim could finally know enough to actually explain what happened to him.

 _"Okay,"_ Uhura said gently. _"Would you like me to arrange for a time to speak with her later?"_

Jim took a deep breath. "I'm not sure how long today will take with Elise...so maybe..." He thought again. He'd know more by tonight, he was certain. "Yes, Lieutenant, I would like to speak with my mother later tonight."

_"I will contact her with your request, Captain."_

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Kirk...Kirk out." He finished quietly. Heart no longer racing, he rested his hand on his chest, tapping his fingers and waiting for his friend to speak. He knew Bones was awake by merely listening to the doctor's breathing. And whenever Jim mentioned Winona, Bones became Jim's own mother bear. His friend didn't disappoint.

"Ya think that's wise, pal?"

"She's different now, Bones," Jim said, not really knowing how he knew that. He could hardly picture his mom but it was a feeling he had, and he had an even crazier feeling wanting to speak with her. "Interested in my life, for one."

"She is," Bones said simply.

Jim frowned. "You sound like you know something."

"Archer may have slipped her a note, Jim, a few weeks back." Bones yawned. Jim sensed him moving around, getting comfortable again.

"Oh," Jim frowned again. "That's...fine, I guess."

"It was a small breach of your privacy, Jim," Bones said quietly. "I wasn't aware until Spock told me."

"I can't be mad at Archer, Bones." Jim couldn't be too upset, especially since it was Archer's handiwork which allowed Jim to remain on the Enterprise. "He and mom...they do go way back."

"That they do," Bones mumbled. "Chalk it up to him looking after ya, alright?"

"Sure," Jim said absently. He nudged Bones in the ribs, urging him to get up after like he'd asked in the note - Wake me up after you use the comm. "I know it's early, but Elise will be here soon."

"I need to be there with you," Bones murmured. "Don't start without me. I just need a few minutes - and coffee."

"I know. I won't. And...I'll get your coffee." With a slight groan Bones moved away, now probably sitting on the edge of the bed behind him, Jim surmised. "Bones?"

"Yeah, Jim?" Bones said quietly.

"Thanks." He meant for the comm...for everything, but he kept it simple. He wasn't sure he could get into all of that without emotionally compromising himself and then recover before Elise arrived.

"Thought you would like it, but I admit the comm was mostly Spock's idea. The list was mine."

"Yeah, I did like it. It's...it's good," Jim paused. "And...I'm happy you have Jo, Bones, and that she's safe now."

Bones took a sharp breath. "I should be thanking you, Jim."

Jim shook his head. "No, we watch each other's backs. Like you said."

Bones made a noncommittal sound. "Yeah, that we do."

Jim glanced over his shoulder at Bones' gray form. "Bones, I'm sorry for interrupting your sleep. I know you need it."

"Think nothing of it, Jim." Bones sighed dramatically. "I'm a doctor, not a beauty pageant queen."

Jim gave a short laugh, grabbed his cane and coffee cup by the bed, and left his own bedroom to allow the doctor some time to prepare for the coming day. He wasn't oblivious to the intensity of healing that was coming. He'd awakened feeling different. He didn't know how much, though, and having the note beside him with specific instructions yet freedom within those instructions had given him focus. Just as Bones told him that he'd never let Jim go, Jim decided he could never let any of his crew go, beginning with this faithful, selfless country doctor - and the Vulcan who smoothly took Jim's cup of hot coffee out of his hand.

"Spock," Jim grinned, thankful that he didn't have to concern himself about spilling the beverage as he walked. "Thanks."

"You are welcome, Jim."

And that is why, Jim surmised, the captain redirected the snakes to save his crew in that damned sacred room in the first place. No matter what they all might think, what Jim was dealing with now was a small price to pay in exchange for the lives of his family.

 

* * *

 

McCoy waited on the edge of his seat. They were about to begin for the day, and Jim had to sense something was coming - his pulse raced, his brow gleamed with perspiration, and his eyes flickered from Spock, to Elise, and to McCoy.

"Before we begin, captain, your friends wish to tell you what happened after they rescued you from the Re'an." Elise leaned forward in her seat and grasped Jim's hands in her own. "But I need you to relax."

"Sorry," Jim gave her a weak smile.

"Don't apologize," Elise said softly, her words already seeming to have a calming effect on Jim as he settled back into the couch. "You are remembering things this morning and I have no doubt that it is overwhelming. Although you are a strong, resilient man, your emotions run deep and today may be difficult for you."

"I understand," Jim said. "But, I'm ready."

"I know you are," Elise smiled. With a nod, she turned to McCoy.

"Jim, when we found you on Re'an V, you had been beaten," McCoy said quietly.

"By the Re'an guards," Jim replied.

"You remember." McCoy glanced at Spock. They had both assumed Jim would recall some of the mission today, given the way the healing went the night before. An opaque barrier meant that these memories, if they were still there, would either need guidance by Elise or slip by naturally. Spock did not want to abuse his bond with Jim and Jim's inability to control the bond, so the Vulcan had not pressed into Jim's mind. They were dependent upon Elise's guidance - and Jim, himself - to know how to proceed.

"They came in like bees - swarming." Jim frowned. "Lequa encouraged it in the end...he..."

"He did what, Jim?" McCoy pressed.

"He told them I liked it. They hit harder."

Pain slammed into McCoy's chest. "Dammit, Jim..."

"It's alright, Bones," Jim called softly. "I blacked out towards the end, I think, at least until the meld began. But, it's over, and I'm here and...you are, too, well...all of you...and that's what matters most to me."

McCoy took a careful breath. "And we're thankful, Jim, but we want you to understand the other side, the things you may not remember yet and the things you don't know."

"What do you mean, Bones?" Jim asked evenly.

"The beating did a number on your body, Jim, but so did the meld. While you were healing from your contusions, surgeries, broken bones, and infection in your leg, you were also in a catatonic state."

Jim's eyes flickered with an unidentified emotion. "I was...what? Catatonic?

"For eighteen days, Jim," Spock said.

Jim licked his lips, appearing like he wished to speak, but then he merely set his shoulders, his impassive expression and body language reflecting his control. In truth, it was a captain look if McCoy ever saw one. Jim was thinking - and thinking hard. And that was why both he and Spock waited for their captain to speak.

"They spared nothing in the way of strength," Jim finally replied, "and the meld - I tried to fight with what little fight I had left, because by then, I knew you and Spock were still on planet. I could see a little bit into the boy's mind at some point during the meld the first time. I wanted to get out to help you, but I failed. I guess I'm not surprised that happened."

"We believe the beating was how your eyes were damaged, but the meld's effects hid that damage from our scanners," McCoy said, anxious to explain to Jim the next procedure available to him. "Hiding it was meant to hurt you, but it also allowed for a little natural healing of the optic nerves. Although the nerves aren't functioning properly, they were able to withstand the small procedure that allows you to distinguish light from dark."

"So it was a good thing..." Jim murmured.

"In a way, yes, and it's not the only safeguard the Re'an did that ended up being a positive thing in the long run," McCoy said. "We believe that we can build upon this procedure with another one. And from that...you have a chance, Jim. A small chance, but a chance just the same."

"For my blindness to be reversed?" Jim's eyes widened, showing the first strong emotional reaction since Elise arrived.

"Yes." McCoy could hardly keep the excitement from his voice. "It may take some time, but...Jim, I'm not going to doubt what this surgeon can do."

Jim's blue eyes pooled with liquid. "I didn't expect...I...really...really don't know what to say."

"Say yes, Jim," McCoy said, "because the surgeon arrives later today."

 

* * *

  

Jim agreed to the procedure without hesitation. It would be either tomorrow or the next day, depending upon what Elise accomplished with Jim. After Bones conversed with the surgeon, the next step began - giving back the knowledge and skills Jim needed to command his ship. Since Bones was concerned about Jim's vitals and during the process Jim would be unable to speak, he was fitted with a monitor cuff around his arm and one on his chest.

"This would be easier if we used nanotech," Bones murmured.

"To always know what's going on with me?" Jim's brow furrowed. It was a bit intrusive, but he knew his friend wouldn't take advantage of that.

Bones hesitated. "Yes. The procedure tomorrow dictates that I know what's going on with your eyes at all times. Might as well do it for the rest of you."

"Would it help?" Jim asked quietly.

"To keep you healthier? Yes," Bones replied, adjusting the small patch on Jim's chest.

"Then...do it."

"Are you sure?" Bones dropped his hands.

"It'll make things easier for you, not just me, right?" Jim asked patiently, feeling a little like the table were turned.

"There's more to it than that, like your privacy, Jim."

"Bones, after all of this? It just makes sense."

"If it's what you want..." Bones began.

"It is," Jim nodded. "And I also don't want you to worry that I'm saying this just to appease you. I'm not. I want it done. If it's easier for you, than it's easier for me."

"I'll make sure we take care of it soon, then, Jim," Bones said. "But only-"

"Bones, it's already decided," Jim said firmly. "It's a decision that I feel is important, and you know I'd rather spend as little time as possible in sickbay. Not that I don't love to spend time with you, but I sort of remember going there all too often."

"Got that right," Bones grunted. "Fine. I'll make it official."

"Thank you."

"You ready for this?" Bones asked, handing Jim his shirt.

"Yes," Jim said, then shrugged his shirt on a bit awkwardly, wincing when he twisted his arm. Bones had to have seen that.

"Is the pain too much?"

"Just when I use it," he said honestly.

"I'm giving you something, then," Bones said without hesitation.

Jim sighed inwardly. Maybe he'd been too honest. "Bones, I'll just be sitting here," Jim protested.

"Maybe you're not going to use that arm all that much during this session with Elise, but I need you comfortable and so does she." Bones pressed the hypo into Jim's neck. "It's not a high dose, so you won't be going all loopy on us, alright?"

"Fine," Jim said quietly. He wanted this to go as smoothly as possible. This was, in his opinion, the most important session he could have. To regain his knowledge about this ship and the skills needed to run it? The ship he still couldn't quite see how he loved so much?

_You'll feel the same way once more, Captain, I promise. It may not be today. It may not be in a few days, but I promise that feeling will someday return._

As Elise spoke to him quietly in his mind, Jim felt the effects of the pain medication and the ache in his arm ebbed. Bones settled into a chair beside him. Jim sensed Spock hovering nearby, watching him, maybe even anxious at the way Jim had suddenly gone quiet.

_And if I don't feel the same way again? What happens then, Elise?_

_Of what are you really afraid, Captain?_

_That I will disappoint them. That I will be too...too..._ Jim swallowed, closing his eyes as he couldn't find the heart to finish the words to his greatest fear.

_You are different, yes, but you will see that you are very much like the Jim Kirk in your memories. You are damaged - it cannot be helped - but you are resilient, Captain, and surrounded by friends._

They know. Jim's heart broke all over again. How can they keep doing this...helping him when they knew? _I am too Re'an, Elise. I'm too -_

_You are James T. Kirk, no matter what the Re'an have done to you. You are loved by your friends, loved by your crew...I have witnessed this both in speech and in action. Have no doubt, Captain, they embrace you today just as they will tomorrow._

A tear slipped out of the corner of Jim's eye, and it was not his own hand which wiped it away.

_Captain, do not despair._

"Spock?" Jim strangled out the name as a whisper.

_Yes, I am to calm you so Elise can begin._

Jim huffed a breath. "Calm. Okay. I'm only...but...shit...Spock? Bones? I can't...I can't do this," he leaned back, eyes watering as he stared at the ceiling.

"You can, Jim. Elise is correct," Spock said gently. "You have been through a struggle which only strengthens your ability to captain this ship and crew. Every one of your past experiences gives you insight, fortitude, and a renewed sense of compassion, including this recent mission with the Re'an. We will be respectful of the changes made in our captain, for while our allegiance demands it, we freely offer it and our love for him embraces all that he is."

"It's not going to be as easy as that, Spock," Jim swallowed. "How can it be that easy?"

"That is why we have each other's backs, Jim, remember?" Bones said softly. "And Spock isn't saying that it will be easy, but being part of your crew? Staying right by your side where we belong? That is easy, Jim. The way I see it, you're my best friend, Jim. That hasn't changed a bit. You're Spock's, too, you know, and hell, Jim, I really don't see how anything would ever come between the hobgoblin and his bond buddy."

Jim sniffed and gave a small laugh.

"So are you ready?" Bones asked. "To become all captainly again? In my opinion, you've already made huge steps getting there already, Jim, but just haven't noticed it for yourself yet. It will take time, and we're ready for that."

"It will be our pleasure to help you as you adjust," Spock said. "While we await your progress after the procedure, it will be only fitting to have you aboard, Jim. Not one crew member of the Enterprise is looking for a new captain. You are our captain, Jim. There is no one else worthy to sit in that chair."

Their captain? No one else worthy? Even with...with this side to him that they never asked for, let alone Jim? He could hardly breathe without feeling an ache in his chest. This probably wouldn't be the last conversation they'd have on the matter. He was worried they would someday resent him, resent the new thoughts in his head that reflected the Re'an culture. In fact, Jim somehow realized they were more upset than they let on, but despite their conflicted feelings, they were going to take him for who he was. They really wanted him, and the Re'an part of him would not stand in their way.

 _Yes, they do want you, dear Captain. In fact, they are unwilling to move forward without you. Do not underestimate their love for you nor the love you have for them, no matter the growing pains you may all experience in the upcoming days. But do not be discouraged. I am not leaving. I will come alongside to help you._ "It's time, Captain, if you are willing." Elise asked.

Jim steeled himself. He would do everything he could to help them move forward. They deserved far better than he but the truth was, he wanted them by his side as much as they wanted him. Selfishly, maybe Jim wanted that even more. "Elise? I'm ready."

 

* * *

  

The captain walked out of his bedroom ten hours and twenty-two minutes later, disoriented as one would expect after an intense telepathic healing session and a subsequent nap. He leaned heavily against the doorway and closed his eyes. Spock held back, scrutinizing the captain as he took the time to rub the faint stubble along his jawline and just as slowly found his way to his table and chairs. The captain appeared worn and tired but determined to be in their presence. Spock would not let Jim falter, but neither would the doctor.

McCoy took the captain by the elbow, guided him to his seat, and offered him coffee.

"Bones, just what I needed," Jim said softly, hands wrapped around the warm mug. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, Jim."

The captain took a sip, face twisting in concern before turning his head towards his sitting area. "I thought...isn't Spock here?"

"Of course he is. Why would you even think he'd leave his bond buddy after a session like the one ya just had?" McCoy quipped.

Jim's lips twitched up, and Spock found himself wanting to offer a rare smile in return. "Indeed, Jim, why would I leave."

Spock approached, aware that Jim's eyes, while they did not locate his face, intently focused on him just the same. Then, Spock did not seek permission but sat down across from the captain and clasped his hands on the table - and waited.

Jim took a sip of his coffee, lingering in a moment of what seemed to be complete contentment as he tasted the beverage. He set down the mug, eyes as brilliant as ever and his mind a rich combination that was, if Spock could venture, an even more intriguing mind than he'd ever imagined, the Re'an part included.

Jim cleared his throat and uttered the words Spock had longed to hear for what was sure to have been almost an eternity. "So, Spock." Jim leaned back in his chair with a lazy smile that reached his eyes. "How's our ship?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I was a little sad when I wrote this chapter. And a little nervous about what you all would think. Sniffs. Wipes tear. It's okay to be sad for Jim - and for McCoy and Spock. Gosh, I'm sad about it and I'm the author. But, also be happy! He's resilient, despite being weathered a bit, with Re'an sprinkled throughout. He is not the same and he knows it, but he's still the captain we know him to be, and his crew is right there with him. :)
> 
> There's more to come, including more of Soona and Elise, especially Elise. Also, captain's logs...more crew time...more Triumvirate time...the procedure...oh...and a scene which I have had on my mind since August that I cannot wait to share. :) Yeah...see how I can't get this done in a few short chapters? LOL! Thanks for reading, and if you drop me a review, thank you so much for that, too! Writing this story has been a greater task than I ever expected. I've been posting weekly since August on FF.net - a long time! Thank you to those on AO3 who have come along for the ride since I began posting a couple months back. I can't thank Rubyhair enough for beta reading! I am honestly not sure I could've continued this story very well without a beta reader, so I am incredibly grateful for this assistance. :)


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly a little surprised I got this chapter up today! Don't get me wrong, I'm happy about it but the past week was stressful, and I'm not sure what this next week will bring. Please be patient if it's more than a week for the next update. It really was a struggle writing with all that was happening. Seriously, I've pretty much agonized over every word I wrote for this chapter and my concentration hasn't been the best. I depended upon my beta reader, Rubyhair, to find some bigger things that needed edited. :) Thanks to her, this chapter became less confusing. :) Remaining errors are all mine.
> 
> I know this story has been emotionally charged almost in its entirety (since August for FF.net readers), so I appreciate you hanging in there with me! This next chapter is pretty heavy with that, too, but - probably the last real intense chapter as far as that goes. I've tried not to let it tip the balance and be too much of a good thing. That sort of thing is always on my mind for Indigenous, but the emotions literally drive each chapter! There is NO way around them. So with that warning, there is a scene coming up that is big on the hurt (with some comfort, in a way), but you won't know what I mean until after you've read the entire chapter.
> 
> I think there was another note I wanted to add, but...I can't remember. It's just been one of those weeks. I do hope you enjoy this next chapter - for me, it is a pretty important one for several reasons. Jim finding more of himself, the crew seeing Jim...there's a lot, actually. :)
> 
> Oh, and if you are interested, I do have a 'face' to put with Soona. She's a character I actually wasn't too sure about myself when I began plotting this story. She's grown on me and we're not quite done with her. So, without further ado, if you know who Natalie Portman is, you know what Soona looks like. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading! Thank you to all who are commenting - I really enjoy reading your thoughts about the story!

Jim sat up in his bed, disoriented, unshaven and wearing his rumpled clothing from when, he didn't know. It wasn't the first time that time itself eluded him. In fact, ever since Re'an V, his days seemed immeasurable. Before he hadn't minded. Now, it was a heavy burden he no longer wanted, but there wasn't much that he could do about it. He was blind and sometimes it took him a moment to orientate himself with his surroundings. Jim sighed. He had things to do, his ship to care for, his crew to...Jim frowned. Remaining in his bedroom with these persistent, odd thoughts wouldn't do anything to help his situation at all. He scooted off the bed to find Bones and Spock and walked to the door of his bedroom. He leaned his head against the doorframe, still bewildered by his state of mind. What had happened? Why did he have this sudden urge to prowl the Enterprise? Spock took care of her - not Jim. He rubbed his jaw, liking the fact that at least he had hair there, and then...he remembered. _The Enterprise._ His ship had been returned to him, the knowledge of her now entangled with the Jim Kirk he had become. He smiled to himself. It was the best damn feeling he'd had since leaving Re'an V.

He put one foot in front of the other, still lost in both time and space until the air between Spock and himself sparked with acknowledgement of the other. He saw someone approaching him, and breathed easier knowing his friends were there. Jim couldn't wait to speak with his first officer, but his mind and body refused to rush right along with his good intentions and his blindness forced him to slow down. The precious information he'd received about his ship mesmerized him. Maybe the James T. Kirk who had first stepped onto the Enterprise for the five-year mission would have announced the news that he once again understood the workings of the warp core or the very buttons Uhura utilized as his communications officer. Today, however, Bones took his arm and led him to the table like the disoriented blind man he was, and Jim quietly considered the vast knowledge he'd recently attained. He didn't say anything about it, but he knew they knew, and they were patient friends.

The cup of coffee Bones offered soon warmed his hands but the company warmed his heart and cleared away the rest of his confusion. He was home. He finally felt at ease on this ship - his ship. Jim wondered what he'd say to his friends as a man who'd attained such great knowledge in a matter of hours...until he swore he'd felt worry emanating from his first officer. But, then, the moment broke. Spock reeled the anxiety back so fast and hard that Jim wasn't even certain, then, that Spock was even in the same room after all.

But, Jim had sensed the rare emotion from the Vulcan. His first officer was anxious, and Jim was at a loss of what to do to help Spock, besides becoming captain of the Enterprise and successfully keeping his command. The only way to do that was to undergo this procedure, work with Elise, and come to terms with this new part of himself that would never leave. For now, that was all that mattered, that and working through the onslaught of information he'd received this last session. Now fully comfortable as captain in his captain's quarters, Jim offered Spock the chance to speak first.

"So, Spock," Jim smiled, believing that giving this task over to the commander was the best thing he could do for his friend. "How's our ship?"

Spock answered without hesitation, and the next hour, Jim gave his full attention to Spock as he discussed their ship and crew. He was pleased to learn things were running well and they were making use of this time spent at the Starbase by making minor improvements. Things were even better than he expected for the Enterprise having a displaced captain for well over a month. Although Spock did a respectable job hiding the strain the weeks had placed upon him, Jim was no longer fooled, and he was certain that Spock himself was fooled...even if only a little. Jim knew better because he knew his first officer a hell of a lot better than he ever did before, thanks to his blindness, their bond, and this new sixth sense.

As Spock took care in informing Jim of the Enterprise, the doctor took care of Jim's physical body, working around them both. "These sessions have been intense, Jim, and because of that you're heading towards dehydration," Bones said during a slight lull in conversation and Jim's coffee drinking, pushing a cool glass of water into his hands. "If we let this go, I'll have to send you to sickbay for intravenous fluids. I don't think you want me to do that so drink up, alright? I've contacted Elise. She'll be here soon for another session, by the way."

Jim nodded appreciatively but couldn't pull himself away as he listened to Spock. He barely noticed when Bones administered two hypos, but dutifully drank the electrolyte and vitamin infused water so he could return to his coffee. The remainder of the day would be full and he didn't want another setback with the procedure so soon. It was only late afternoon, and already, Jim had made a mental list of where on his ship he would like to visit if he felt up to the task after the next session with Elise. As the conversation traveled from department to department, the xenozoology lab made the list, not far from the bridge and engineering.

Jim sipped his coffee a little faster than he intended and almost scalded his tongue when Spock told Jim of the remaining Re'an creature on board the Enterprise. He almost couldn't believe they had managed to keep the knowledge of the snakes from him for this long. He couldn't believe they took the creatures on board in the first place, given the precautions they had taken while he remained impressionable to the Re'an culture.

"It wasn't just for research. You did that for Soona, didn't you?" Jim asked, wishing he could read the expression of the Vulcan sitting across from him.

"You are correct, Captain," Spock replied. "It was a logical decision."

"She was left with nothing, but you gave her more time with the last living part of Re'an." Jim leaned forward, clasping his hands and resting them on the table. He wasn't sure Spock knew how much that meant to Soona, as well as Jim. On second thought, maybe he shouldn't have been surprised after all they'd been through. More than ever, he was aware of how Spock fit so well into this picture Jim had of himself and the Enterprise. In fact, it was incomplete without him. He hoped his smile reflected this. He wanted to give back to the friend who'd done so much for him in his recovery. So much had been taken from Jim, various memories of childhood, his teenaged years, years at the Academy, and even some of his time on this ship. The James T. Kirk Spock had known was gone. But this, this was all he had left to offer - assurance that Jim didn't want anything to do with the Enterprise unless his best friends were included. "Thank you, Spock."

"It has given her focus, Captain, and more time than expected as the last creature has not yet perished," Spock explained.

"That one is stronger than it looks," Jim murmured, his gaze dropping to the table as he considered asking if he could see the sacred Re'an snake.

"Dr. Jahnas and Soona both anticipated the creature to die sometime yesterday but Soona spoke with me three point five hours ago. The snake's prognosis remains much the same," Spock said.

Jim jerked his eyes back up, his heart drumming unexpectedly. "Soona hasn't left with her family? I assumed she had."

"She has not, Jim."

"Why? The ship was scheduled to leave, wasn't it?" Jim frowned, a bit confused.

"The ship's captain awaits word from Admiral Archer, who awaits word from you."

"Oh?" Jim cocked his head.

"Soona wishes to speak with you one last time, having heard the sessions with her grandmother proved fruitful. I relayed this information to the Admiral. Given the circumstances, we both feel that it is prudent to give you ample opportunity to speak with Soona before both ships depart."

"I see," Jim said, perhaps with more relief than he intended to reveal. Soona was special to him, and he could not explain why that was that to anyone, let alone himself.

"Captain?"

Jim straightened. "We didn't speak under favorable conditions," he said. The truth was, he barely remembered that meeting and he would like to meet with her again before she left for Earth. There was the dilemma that the creature would affect him, so Jim approached the next subject as carefully as possible. "Since both of our interest lies with the Re'an creature, is it possible that I could visit her in the xenozoology lab?"

"I see no reason why that could not be arranged, Captain," Spock said. "Perhaps tomorrow morning?"

Somewhat surprised that Spock had readily agreed, Jim gave him a small smile. "Thank you."

"Jim, are you sure you can handle that?" Bones asked.

"I can't see the snake and it's encased," Jim replied. He'd forfeit the visit to the lab if it bothered Bones this much, but truthfully, he had no doubts whatsoever. "I understand its scent will most likely affect me but since working with Elise, I don't think it will be anything close to what happened in the past."

"The Re'an are part of you, Jim," Bones said, voice firm. "It will affect you, and we are not sure how at this point. But, I do understand that this is part of the healing process."

That was the very reason he had asked. He had to face his demons. "I know," Jim admitted. "Seeing that creature is important to me, even though the visit may be painful."

"I believe it will be painful, Jim." Bones said. "For more reason than one."

Jim sighed, knowing exactly to what Bones referred. "I don't...I don't hate them, Bones." Jim considered how to even explain his feelings about the Re'an. "I hate what happened and what they did - what Lequa did - but I do recall happy moments and I guess...with this inside my head..."

Jim clamped his mouth shut. He couldn't finish, for fear they'd be repulsed. _He_ was slightly repulsed at himself but there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

"You don't have to say another word, Jim," Bones' hand rested comfortably on Jim's shoulder.

The reassuring touch was a bittersweet reminder that the Re'an mission was grossly misrepresented in his mind, with most of those distasteful memories being of his best friend or of Jim's own tragic command decisions. He should be trying to make sense of these new memories filtering into his memory bank, it was logical to do so, but his ship and crew were his first priority. He'd deal with this other confusion for awhile longer. In fact, although he had no concrete reasoning to believe so, he didn't think he could juggle this sudden, vast knowledge of the Enterprise and as well as the mission in one day. He'd been confused for weeks already - what was a few more days?

Jim took a deep breath. "The thing is, Bones, I don't want to have made a decision I will later regret. I also strongly suggest that the Re'an creature be transported back to Starfleet where it can be put in the hands of scientists and taken care of properly. Since we are here at a Starbase and a ship will return to Earth with Soona and her family, it's the perfect opportunity to make those arrangements."

His friends were too quiet. Jim sighed, realizing they must be communicating with their mutually raised brows. He couldn't compete with that, and he thought of a compromise.

"When you two are done wagging your eyebrows at each other, you can consider my suggestion that Elise accompany me." Jim's brow creased. Actually, he didn't have to wait for their affirmation. Elise had warned him of growing pains in the coming days, and Jim did not want to be caught unaware without her. "In fact, I won't go without her."

"Wagging our..." Bones huffed. "I don't wag my brows at anyone but Spock has less of a chance of wagging than I do."

"Indeed, Captain, I cannot agree with your observation," Spock said. "The calculation for my participation in such an act is zero percent."

"You both wag," Jim's eyebrows flew up and down as he continued fighting a grin, "but I'm blind. It's an unfair advantage."

"Unfair advantage or not, I'll agree to both things. I would love to see that damn snake slither its scaly self off this ship," Bones muttered under his breath.

Jim sniggered, relieved that Bones still felt like he could speak his mind around him. "Tell me how you really feel, Bones."

"I shouldn't have said that, Jim, and I'm sorry," Bones said in a low voice. "The mere thought of it makes my skin crawl and brings to mind what happened to our captain, but the creature is important to you. I should respect that."

Jim offered him a reassuring smile. "Bones, I'm not offended at all. I understand. In fact, it's partially my own reasoning for suggesting to remove the creature from the Enterprise."

"Captain, I will arrange for the creature to be transported to Terra. In regards to your visit, it would be prudent to include Elise," Spock said. "I will also arrange for you to meet with Soona in the early morning, given the possibility that your procedure will be scheduled that day, as well."

"Good. That's settled," Jim nodded. "Now, what did you tell the crew of my condition? And, most importantly, how are they, Spock?"

Spock's succinct answers pulled Jim back into a world that had been a mystery to him for weeks. The doctor moved away, and soon Jim gradually grew aware of a new, calming presence in the room. He thought to give Elise a polite welcome but the words died in his mouth. His concentration was fully taken and after the lengthy telepathic healing session, he couldn't shift his focus without great effort.

_Do not worry, Captain. I will still be here when you are done speaking with your first officer about your beloved ship._

A smile formed on his lips. His beloved ship. Beloved? He silently toyed with the endearment.

"Captain?" Spock asked.

"Spock. Yes." Jim cleared his throat. "Please, continue."

Spock acquiesced, but Jim's focus had unknowingly already shifted, his mind unable to return to his previous conversation. Elise may have been right - his affection for the Enterprise was growing. He didn't believe it had fully grown but the tender roots settled deeper and the buds formed as he listened. Enraptured by the details of his ship, his heart flipped in a strange way every time his first officer called the Enterprise _Jim's ship_. Or, _your ship_. Jim didn't want to call it pride. In fact, he should squelch the feeling because pride cut deep.

But it hurt just as much to stifle it. He was proud of his ship and his crew. He was proud of Spock. He was...He couldn't think that way, and Jim's smile died.

If this paradox was who he'd become, he did not know if he could manage well at all.

"Captain," Spock said softly, that one word revealing that Jim had broadcasted that last thought through their bond.

Jim pushed out his chair and stood. "You've taken good care of her, Spock." He stopped there. Other than the other problem he just acknowledged to himself, and perhaps to Spock and Elise, he felt somewhat stifled in his quarters, especially as Spock had expanded his report on other departments and the visit to the xenozoology lab wasn't until the next day. Maybe this seclusion of sorts was the root of his struggle, but he could fix it. He couldn't see, so the observation deck would be pointless, but he could work with his hands. He could feel with his hands...

"Perhaps engineering after this next session with Elise?" Spock's quiet, unassuming suggestion was perfect. "Or...the bridge?"

"Yes," Jim said, nodding once. The bridge was even better. He rubbed his jaw, not minding the roughness of his chin. Was this hair darker, too? Would his crew even recognize him? Would they be shocked in the changes in their captain? Would it...bother them? Needing his hat - and perhaps a change of clothing and refresher - Jim turned for his bedroom before the internal storm grew and got the better of him. "Bones? Spock? I need a few minutes."

"Take all the time that you need, Jim," Bones said.

_Something troubles you, Captain._

_Elise, I can't allow it to bother me._ The door to his bedroom closed behind him. Jim sank to the edge of his bed, his cane the support he needed as he leaned over, his gaze to the floor. He must make a decision, and it would be utterly painful for both him and his best friends. His knuckles whitened. Very painful.

_You must not avoid this growing pain, Captain. It will only hurt more later on if you do so, especially as you walk the corridors of your ship. Of anything that I can teach you, it is that you are no longer merely James T. Kirk, human._

_Please, Elise._ Jim begged. _Don't say it._

_Captain, I will never force it, but I must bring this to your attention. You have time - do not rush yourself today. Think of your doctor, who assured you he will accept you for who you are. Consider your first officer, who is half-human and has experienced his own struggle with human emotion._

He thought he should be able to process decision alone, but he didn't want to be alone. He wasn't sure he wanted to be alone ever again, not with the Re'an tied to him forever.

_He's coming, Captain._

_Who?_

_Captain? I've told him what to do as I help you work through this._

Jim's door opened. It didn't surprise him. They cared for him as their friend, and they were watching out for their captain. The newcomer's hand soon placed a hand on his shoulder. Jim bit his lip as Spock offered _acceptance_ through the link. A different source sent _happiness_ and _satisfaction_ and then _responsibility_. It was Elise, those feelings now continuous, fulfilling murmurs through his mind while Spock stood still and silent. Jim wasn't aware of the time passing, only of the instant that his tumultuous emotions stopped churning, leaving him breathless and vulnerable to the purer ones from Elise. Finally feeling capable of speaking, Jim breathed out the very words he pleaded her not to say.

"I no longer identify myself as fully human, Spock." Although Jim's words were hardly audible in his own ears, he knew the Vulcan had heard them loud and clear. "I no longer identify myself as fully human, and I cannot be prideful about this ship. Our ship."

 _Happiness_ flooded his heart.

"It's not right for a Re'an to be prideful as I had...as I think I've felt before," Jim whispered.

 _Satisfaction_. _Responsibility_. The feelings continued to pour but then a new one entered... _love_.

"Does it bother you, Spock? What I've become? What I can't help but become?" Jim opened his eyes. He wanted Spock to understand. He wanted Bones to understand. Jim could not ignore it, not when it was staring him right in the face and daring him to deny the truth. "I can't push aside what's natural to me."

"Jim, we do not ask you to push this aside," Spock said quietly.

"You can't get rid of it." Jim blinked. "Do you really know what this means, Spock?"

Did _he_?

"Yes, we know, Jim," Spock said.

"It will not leave," Jim gave a short dry, laugh. He wasn't pushing for affirmation. No, this was giving them one more chance to back out. One more, while he had the courage to vocalize it. "And I can't...I can't leave it alone. To have any chance of commanding my ship, I must continue to face this part of me that will affect more aspects of my life than I...than we...realize..."

"We are fully aware of the intricacies of the Re'an barriers, Jim," Spock said, his voice firm. Jim's eyes snapped upward. "Therefore, Captain, you must no longer question our loyalty as Elise continues the healing process. You will not offer the doctor or myself any opportunity to withdraw our devotion from you as you adjust."

Jim froze as he finally understood Spock's adamancy.

_Listen, Captain. Heed your commander's words._

Elise was right. Spock was right. Jim shouldn't question them. He did know better. He -

 _Happiness_.

Jim closed his eyes, Elise's healing like tender fingers caressing his mind and creeping into its hurting places. Little by little, warm emotions began to pulse through him like waves, infiltrating the Re'an parts, overlapping or forcing them to budge. Spock stood still, allowing Jim the physical touch that he'd craved. Soon, he felt the brush of Bones' shoulder as he sat beside him and the insatiable ache to be the same friend to them that he'd been before. Things had changed, never to be the same, but Jim couldn't wallow in the past. He owed it to his best friends to move forward.

"I have to continue to embrace the Re'an part of me - or I can't move on, Bones," Jim whispered, vocalizing the bitter truth to Bones.

"It's gonna be okay, Jim," Bones said gently. "We're not going to let you face this alone. Remember? We knew going into this that it would not be easy but we're here...through it all, pal."

They wouldn't give him the luxury of being alone. Although Jim hated to put them through the pain of seeing him so vulnerable and helpless to the changes, he knew with certainty that he'd never get through this or any other so-called growing pain without them.

_When you are honest and vulnerable with them, you're being honest with yourself and it will help as you adjust to your Re'an tendencies, bringing them to surface as they must be at some point._

_Elise, how many are there?_ Jim's chest tightened, but Elise was there before the pain overwhelmed him.

_The growing pains are numerous and they can happen at any time. Perhaps later today or tomorrow or even weeks from now, but, Jim, you cannot fear them. You must welcome them. Suppressing the tendencies will only delay your healing and increase the difficulty as you adjust. These growing pains are challenging, but we will not abandon you._

She continued to work and soon, Jim's mind was brought again to a peaceful place. He remained there, basking in the contentment she offered. He was drawn to Elise's healing and once that process began, he was becoming more comfortable and grounded in himself. He imagined that she now knew every bit of his Re'an and human mind, and not being repulsed, she stayed, repeatedly taking his pain, fear, and shame upon herself. He could trust her, and so he did.

_Let them help you, Jim, and in turn, you all will see. Your pride from before was not based upon selfishness. You have already been put through a fire and tested, beginning the very second you entered the warp core. You've grown into your command, and your friends realize this as does your crew. Your underlying feelings are pure and acceptable to the ideal the Re'an followed for thousands of years, up until their downfall. You have already been stripped of that selfishness with which you equate pride. And now? What do you see..._

He thought saw something different but he wasn't sure, so he waited as Elise worked more. Finally, it was there right in front of him. He was blind but he couldn't miss it. Although he could not call it _pride_ , this feeling was something new altogether and it had grown into something beautiful.

_Many feelings, Elise. And they're clear...broadly reaching...because of the Re'an..._

_Yes, Captain! Your feelings are even purer than they were before. They have been refined. This trial you've faced has not been in vain._

He wasn't sure he whole-heartedly believed that, but...something was different. What he thought was pride was not. It was happiness that he was with his family. It was satisfaction for the way his crew handled themselves in his absence. It was happiness that his skilled crew endured and his two best friends faithfully stood beside him through it all. It was satisfaction that he'd been given the Enterprise to command, following in his father's footsteps but ultimately of his own desire. This was love for his family and the desire to protect them, which he'd do at the expense of himself over and over. He had a responsibility to know his ship and crew, and it wasn't against the new part of himself which refused to uncurl its fingers and loosen its hold on his life. He could allow himself to feel these emotions about his ship and family. He couldn't call it pride or allow himself to feel pride because of the Re'an, but losing that human emotion didn't matter to Jim. Not anymore. With help from Elise, the word was managed quickly, not removed from his vocabulary but catalogued elsewhere - and relief settled within his chest that it would no longer bother him.

Then because he could not walk away from his beloved ship or crew, Jim reconciled the Re'an with the human - and embraced them equally.

 

* * *

 

Jim's hand reached for the control panel of the turbolift, his hand sliding down to find the appropriate button and the doors closed as soon as they opened.

"Ya alright, there, captain?" McCoy murmured, hand hovering beside his arm. With great control, Spock also refrained from touching the captain's arm.

Jim nodded, his mouth pressed into a determined line. "I'm fine," he said. McCoy frowned and glanced at Spock and back at Jim.

"We just got here and then you closed the doors again," McCoy said evenly. "That's not fine."

"I'm...focused."

McCoy glanced at Spock, frowning. Spock arched a brow. The captain was not 'focused,' Spock decided. Jim was troubled for a second time in two hours and thirty-two minutes, and the doctor showed signs of anxiety. Perhaps it would be in Jim's best interest to postpone the outing to the bridge. The last session with Elise, although successful, provided Jim with a new level of comfort as a Re'an and human, but its intensity had affected all of them. Spock let down his shields to allow Elise to question him. He explained, and she informed him that they must wait for Jim. It was another growing pain, and their captain needed them to be as patient with him as they possibly could, despite the difficulty.

"If it's because you're missing your good hat again...blame Christine," McCoy said in an obvious attempt to distract Jim.

Jim frowned. "Christine?"

"I was not aware that that Nurse Chapel was to blame for Jim's missing hat," Spock said.

"I swear she has a hat fetish now because of you, Jim," McCoy complained. "It's your fault, Jim, if I have to deal with this."

Jim rolled his eyes. "She doesn't have a hat fetish. She tried it on once, and then - "

"Borrowed her captain's hat? Stole it?"

"Bones," Jim said with a short laugh. "I gave it to her as a thank you for the extra work she's put in, cooking food that tastes better to me."

"That was your favorite hat, Jim," McCoy said slowly, a strange look in his eyes as he stared at Jim.

"I know. It was." Jim shrugged. "But she liked it, and I have this one - and food I actually enjoy tasting."

"I shall ask Lieutenant Uhura to knit you a replacement," Spock offered.

Jim shook his head. "It's fine, Spock. I really don't need them now, although I like them. I'm not cold anymore and I have...what did you call it, Bones?"

"Fuzz, Jim," McCoy drawled. "Pure soft, chick fuzz."

"Right. Fuzz." Jim's lips twitched. "It's not much but it's there, although Soona was quite opinionated about it."

"Her reaction was unique," McCoy agreed.

"Sonja is unique," Elise said softly.

Jim spun around so abruptly that both Spock and McCoy gripped his arms to steady him. "Her name is...is...not Soona?"

"Sonja is Soona's given name," Elise replied.

"Her name," Jim said, his expression quizzical. "It's so close to the Re'an form...but...which does she prefer?"

Concerned for the captain and the almost lost way he questioned Elise about Soona's preferences, Spock lowered his shields again exchanged a glance with Elise. She smiled softly.

_He is worried that she will lose her Re'an identity completely, and he will be the only one, Elise explained. It is a natural reaction from him, but I will ease his fear. However, Commander, there lies a more important reason behind his question: he cannot call her by anything else than her Re'an name. It is impossible; it is a result of the barrier._

_That is._..disconcerting, but Spock settled on a different word... _fascinating_.

"Do not worry, Captain. Sonja prefers Soona." Elise regarded Jim kindly. "Except for when I address her."

"But it's her name..." Jim frowned.

"Let me assure you, Captain, when you meet with her tomorrow, Soona will be perfectly acceptable," Elise affirmed.

"Soona, then," Jim murmured. He reached his hand to the control panel but hesitated for a second time.

"Captain?" Spock asked, noting that at the exact moment Elise closed her eyes, Jim sighed and his arm dropped to his side.

"What's wrong, Jim?" McCoy said quietly.

"Maybe nothing, but," Jim drew a labored breath, "I think feel like I did the first time I took the Kobayashi Maru."

The admittance confused Spock but only until the doctor began to help clarify the captain's statement.

"This isn't about no-win scenarios, Jim," McCoy said. "It's about enduring in any situation."

"Then, did I give in too easily?" Jim asked.

"You had no damn choice in the matter, Jim," McCoy said, the lines around his mouth tightening.

"Had I known..." Jim clamped his mouth shut, an uneasiness swiftly settling in his eyes.

McCoy's expression cracked, hinting at an emotion Spock had seen all too often since the Re'an mission - sadness - and the doctor's words threatened his own control. "Had you known this would have happened to you anyway, you would have relented sooner?"

Jim's eyes seemed to search for the friend behind the thickly spoken words and the friend's characteristic empathy, but Jim's gaze landed right at McCoy's chin and then McCoy's hand dropped from Jim's arm. The two humans were, Spock decided, slightly detached from one another. Spock could not fathom their misconceived ill-fated friendship coming true - and he again let down his shields to speak with Elise in silent supplication.

 _They must do this,_ she told him silently. _They must work a little harder right now, but I am protecting them, both of them, Mr. Spock_.

"Maybe." Jim's whispered word pleaded as much as a million would have, but it made no difference: the doctor wanted a different answer.

"They were beyond saving, Jim, even at that time," McCoy said, eyes piercing the Captain.

Jim swallowed. His expression clearly revealed his desire to be understood as a Re'an. "Bones, you know as well as I do that I can't _not_ think back on this from all angles."

"You need to listen to your logs, Jim," McCoy said quietly. "And ours."

Jim shook his head.

"I know this is important, but we should postpone this visit, allow you to rest and review the mission correctly." McCoy said slowly. "Jim, maybe just the first two or three days of your logs. It would be enough to begin giving you the bigger picture."

"That can wait. I...this new knowledge...I mean...old knowledge...of the Enterprise is...it's overwhelming, Bones. I need to see her." Jim seemed to scrape the words out of his throat.

Spock, wanting to ease the tension growing between the two men, depended upon Vulcan logic to end it. "Captain, if you had conceded to such telepathic actions as soon as you realized a meld was necessary for the Re'an, the likelihood you would have learned of Soona's predicament before that meld is one point two percent."

Jim took a sharp breath, wavering on his feet. McCoy grasped Jim's elbow for a split second. "Steady, Jim," he murmured.

"You would not have been able to save her as the Re'an beings degraded, Captain," Spock continued.

All were silent, waiting. Jim cocked his head, his face now a calm mask.

"It was the logical choice with the best outcome," Spock said, for no one's benefit. It was illogical to even bother making that statement to Soona's grandmother, the man who cared for Soona perhaps as a brother would, and said man's doctor.

"You're right," Jim finally said.

Elise opened her eyes. Spock had no doubt that the conversation could have become quite different - and darker - without her presence. If her presence was this necessary for a simple excursion to the bridge, for Jim to continue his path towards healing and reconciling the Re'an with the human, Spock could not see the Betazoid healer anywhere else but on the Enterprise - indefinitely.

Then, as if the conversation never occurred, McCoy reached for Jim before his hand ever found the control panel.

"Don't doubt what you've done, Jim. Promise me," the doctor hoarsely whispered in the Captain's ear. "Don't ever doubt your decisions on Re'an V. You're here with us, and I'm not letting you forget that."

Jim blinked his eyes, water seeping from their corners as the doors opened.

 

* * *

 

Perhaps his captain must suppress any self-centered emotion; but, Spock, despite his Vulcan heritage, experienced a semblance of pride on behalf of his captain. The bridge crew handled themselves exactly how they had been instructed - without pomp and circumstance as their captain appeared. A few senior command crew members were present, but it was a mix of others who also pledged their loyalty a long time ago to a man who'd already given his life for theirs.

"Keptin on the bridge," Chekov called, as was permissible.

"Chekov," Jim said, his smile, though tenuous, became a beacon of light in the room.

Every face turned as the captain made his way to the center with Spock's assistance. McCoy remained near-by, having escorted Elise to the right of the captain's chair. Jim did not immediately venture over to the chair, but decisively stood with his eyes closed and head tipped back. He breathed deeply, and it was several quiet moments before Jim spoke again. The bridge crew bent to their tasks, occasionally a head or pair of eyes turning to watch the captain. Spock surmised that it was surreal for them, for none of them ever expected their blind captain to be standing on the bridge looking at ease. Surreal, but acceptable and welcomed.

"Spock, I realize I am not fit for duty, but do you mind if I sit for a few minutes?" Jim's smile widened.

"He thought you'd never ask, Jim," McCoy drawled.

"The chair is yours, Captain." Spock warmed at the thought and could not help Jim to the chair quickly enough. He offered a hand, having previously found that aiding Jim in such a fashion into an unfamiliar chair did away with the captain's fears that he would miss the chair and land on his backside.

"Thank you, Commander," Jim said, nodding. Spock let go and the captain tilted his head once more, eyes closed as before and ears, Spock assumed, attuned to the business of the bridge around him.

Or, simply listening to the murmurs of his beloved ship as she welcomed him back in a private chorus for one.

It did not take long, as McCoy had anticipated. Jim's head dropped within twenty-five minutes of stepping foot on the bridge, and ten minutes in the chair.

"Jim," McCoy whispered, bending slightly to nudge his best friend awake and allow his head to rest against his arm instead of remaining painfully crooked.

Jim's eyes fluttered open. "Bones?"

"Captain, you'll be snoring on the bridge all night if you're not careful." McCoy curled his fingers around Jim's arm.

Jim kneaded his forehead. "Shit, Bones. I didn't mean..." He sighed. "So much for being discrete."

"If you were going for discrete, sitting in the captain's chair and then proceeding to fall asleep is not the way to do it," McCoy said dryly.

Jim leaned his head back lazily, his baby blues peering in Bones' direction. "Maybe I'll just stay here, then, since the damage is done, away from my pushy doctor and lull them all to sleep with my delicate snoring."

A chuckle escaped from the communications chair.

"I heard that, Uhura," Jim tossed over his shoulder.

"Come on, Captain," McCoy drawled, determined to draw a blush out of Jim after all this work they'd gone to getting him here. "Wave good-bye to your minions."

Jim rolled his eyes, but the blush that McCoy expected crept up his neck. Jim stood to his feet with more energy than Bones thought he had in his reserves, and surprising the doctor once again, Jim spoke to each one of the crew before he left, practically pulling Spock along with him.

"I did not expect that," McCoy said, struck by Jim's devotion to his crew so soon after three sessions with Elise.

"No?" Elise replied, a soft smile on her lips. Elise's eyes followed the captain. "It seems like something he would do."

McCoy paused. "It's going to take me awhile -"

"No," Elise shook her head. "It's not. You knew him before, and you know him now. Things may surprise you every day about your friend, but it's not going to take you awhile to get to know him, doctor. You already know Jim Kirk. It is why he trusts you."

"Is he going to forget what the other me did to him?" McCoy asked her.

"Does it truly matter?" Elise asked simply, but McCoy understood. Jim would never forget.

"You're right," McCoy watched Jim with fondness, but his heart filled with grief. "It doesn't matter."

McCoy knew Jim Kirk, as Elise said. And if he had Jim's trust, he had everything he needed to make sure his best friend was okay.

* * *

 

"Twenty minutes, Bones," Jim called out before he sighed, sinking as deeply and comfortably as he could onto his couch. Elise lingered in his quarters, and Bones had told him why, but at the moment, he couldn't remember. "Uhura said twenty minutes."

"Ya nervous? Because that was over ten minutes ago. You'll be talking to your mom very soon, pal," Bones said. "Here's your water, Jim."

Bones pressed the cool glass into Jim's hands but Jim found he could barely hold on after he took a sip. "Maybe set in on the table," he mumbled, head on one of his pillows.

"Maybe we should postpone this." The doctor's hand brushed Jim's hair - his fuzzy, very short, very dark hair.

"Maybe not," Jim argued, pushing himself up. He was captain - he could do this. "You're going first, 'member?"

"I do," Bones took a seat beside Jim. Thinking only how he remembered Bones being a plush pillow, Jim closed his eyes and tested his memory. It wasn't a hundred percent correct but he appreciated the arm that came around him, despite the long-suffering sigh escaping the doctor's lips. "You're going to bed. We'll do this tomorrow."

"Talk to mom," Jim mumbled. "Can't."

"It may not work out tonight, Buddy," Bones said softly.

Someone was moving Jim, urging him to walk, and the next time he pried his eyes open he was sitting on his bed. The doctor pulled the shirt over Jim's head and guided a softer, looser one back over. Hands tugged on his feet, removing his shoes. Jim rubbed his eyes, wondering how the hell he could stay awake for this important comm without requesting a shot of adrenaline, which was more tempting than he'd like to admit.

"It may not work out tonight, but tomorrow I promise."

"She needs to hear from me," Jim mumbled, hunching over on purpose. If he leaned back, the afternoon...evening? Whatever it was, it would be lost. He'd lost enough things. Time wasn't what he wanted to lose tonight.

"If you're this determined," Bones sighed, "I'll see if Elise can help out, to at least get you coherent, alright?"

Jim's brow furrowed. "'Lise? She can talk to Mom? Mom would like her, think."

"No, she can help you be more alert." Bones paused. "I hope. I'll be back, Jim, I promise."

"You keep prom'ses," Jim agreed. He rubbed his face, willing his body to cooperate. How'd he get this tired? It wasn't natural, was it?

"You've overexerted yourself. You've had two telepathic sessions in twenty four hours, Jim. This is normal."

He needed coffee.

"No."

But, coffee.

"It's two hours shy of your bedtime, ya moron. Absolutely not," Bones retorted on his way out of Jim's bedroom.

He returned just as Jim's body betrayed him and his head hit the pillow.

"Nope, you're not doing that." Bones pulled him back up. "Look at me, Jim."

Jim peeled his eyes open. "Yeah."

"Your mom? I just talked with her."

Jim frowned, blinking the sleep away, and realized that Bones had placed a PADD in his hands. His eyes widened with the weight of it in his hands. "My mom."

"Yes, and she'll be able to see you, if that's okay?"

Jim's heart stopped. He'd forgotten that she could see him. He wasn't sure he wanted her to see him like this. It wasn't for selfish purposes he wanted a mere comm, but since their relationship had healed, he wasn't about to assume that watching her blind son on screen would be of any comfort.

"It'll help her, Jim, and I know that's what you want," Bones said gently.

Jim shook his head. "It'll upset her."

"I think she'll be fine, Jim," Bones said. "Because she knows you're moving forward. She needs something, Jim, especially after hearing the truth about your condition."

"If you think so.." Jim hesitated.

"I do," Bones softly said. "How about you sit back against the bed and I'll set this up on the tray Christine just brought from sickbay."

Jim nodded, and in less than a minute he was holding his breath as his mother watched him through the screen.

"Mom," he managed, swallowing any awkward words he could add.

"Hey, baby," she whispered, only a slight trace of tears in her voice. It helped Jim knowing she cared but was somewhat in control of herself and he took a deep breath, willing himself to stay strong for her, too. "Look at you. Got yourself in another mess."

He smiled crookedly. "It's what I do best, so I've been told, and I'm not quite sure what to think about that."

"It's good thing, Jim," his mom answered. "You've...you've always had this strength in you, this desire to make things right for people who need...who...Jim, I'm...I'm..."

She softly cried, her breath catching after a moment. Jim clutched the blanket beneath him, feeling useless as he sat in a bed, blind, and his mother, who never cried, cried for him on her own ship.

She breathed in shakily. "I want to say I'm proud of you, baby, but I know..."

"Mom?"

"I heard what is appropriate or not, in this case..." She stopped, leaving her words hanging as a question.

Jim closed his eyes, nodding. Now he understood. Although didn't want to hear those words that she longed to say, it was more important to help his mother heal, too. "It's alright. That rule's just for me," he said lightly.

But when she told him, _I'm proud of you_ , something within him cracked, and he clung to his mother's accolade. The pathetic irony of the situation was not lost on Jim. Just when he heard the words from his mother for the first time, his life had taken a distinct turn and wouldn't allow him the luxury to enjoy them. He could no longer feel the depth behind those particular words and that was a cruel, hard fact. His brain just wouldn't compute it.

He didn't want anyone to know that he clung to those words as he pulled his knees to his chest, hugging them tightly with his arms, like that child he'd been before Tarsus. He'd been a child who had wanted his mother's attention and did everything right that he possibly could do to get it. He'd been so proud, but when he learned that he'd failed to accomplish the very thing he'd set out to do, he felt worse for having tried to get the attention in the first place. In the end, he'd only felt relief when she left him alone in his misery.

The paradox from a few hours earlier came to mind and he latched his arms around his legs even tighter. He'd do this for her, even though it hurt, but then, she shocked him. She went further and said the three words that were just as rare- _I love you_. He didn't have to think twice. It mended his heart a little - or maybe a lot - and he said them in return to his mother. He meant them, and he put his heart into each one of those three words.

"I know this surgery is going to help you," she said after a silent moment elapsed. They were getting back on their feet again. Emotions tripped up both of them, he knew. He wiped his eyes and nodded in agreement. "If you ever need anything, Jimmy, I can be there. I will drop everything."

"I know," he said quietly, knowing, shockingly, that Winona Kirk absolutely meant what she said. Dropping everything meant abandoning her assignment, but as a long-time friend of Admiral Archer, Jim figured she'd manage to do it if he'd asked. He was tempted. He was a lot of work for his best friends. He'd been a lot of work for them, and now for Elise, and it would be helpful for them all to share the load with one more person.

As tempting as it was, Jim couldn't bring her into this, not really. It did help, though, to sense her sincerity. That he wouldn't have believed this of her a few months back wasn't important. Jim wasn't the only one who'd experienced a significant change, and he knew that he'd be talking to her again sooner than later.

"I'm behind you, and I know that your family there is faithfully behind you, too," she told him.

Jim widened his eyes as she easily acknowledged that his crew was, in fact, his family.

"I don't think I ever heard or saw your doctor so...doting," she said, and Jim was certain he heard her smile.

Jim laughed, and it was on that high note they ended their short conversation. Bones, who'd been there the entire time, sitting in a chair beside Jim's bed, took the device and tray and put them away.

"Doting, huh?" Jim couldn't help but smirk.

"If you as so much tell a single soul that your mother said that, I'll make you eat those green vegetables you like so much."

Jim scoffed. "That's nothin'." He slid down under his covers undeterred by Bones' threat.

"Every day. At breakfast."

Jim groaned. "You're so cruel."

"I have to keep my image, you know. So make that for lunch, too. With a side of hypos."

"Fine, fine, I won't say a word, Bones." Jim lifted his head off his pillow and stared at Bones' gray form, amused. "I'm not one to start a rumor."

"You sure about that?" Bones' voice faded.

"No, really. I'm not," Jim mumbled, replying a little later than he intended and into the quietness of his room. When no answer came, Jim sighed into his pillow, thinking Bones had left him alone for the night. If he were to be honest with himself, he really whimpered instead of sighed. Just a little bit. He missed Bones - and Spock - but he didn't think he was up to talking. How could he be after that conversation with his mother?

A body sunk to a seat at the foot of the bed. Jim stiffened.

"It's just me," Bones said. "I was in the other room, saying goodbye to Elise. Jim, I'd like to talk with you about tomorrow before you drift off to dreamland. I'm meeting with Dr. Sheffield later tonight about the procedure. He arrived shortly after we left the bridge and believes he should be ready for you mid-morning, after you visit the xenozoology lab."

Jim turned his head, staring at the ceiling. He tapped his fingers on his chest. It was really going to happen. A chance. His chance. "How long?"

"You'll be out for ten hours. Recovery is a week. You'll have some swelling, be pretty much bandaged up around your eyes, and..." Bones sighed. "You'll have to be off your feet for a little while."

Jim frowned. That was just great. Just when he wanted to explore. He'd pathetically only made it to the bridge, only to fall asleep. "Off my feet? For how long?"

"Four days. The first day will be pretty rough, Jim, I won't lie, and I'll give you as much pain medication as I can."

Jim huffed a sigh. "I'm not going to be stuck in sickbay all that time, am I?"

"What? Tired of me?"

Jim made a noncommittal sound. "Never."

"Your couch, I promise," Bones said. "Or your bed, at least for day three and four."

"I'll hold you to that."

"I know it seems like I'm clipping your wings again, and...frankly, I guess I am. The good news is that you may see some changes as soon as two weeks," Bones went on. "And, this is the best part, I already have Nurse Chapel on rotation for bringing you food this first week including my mama's pie, baked by Christine."

Mrs. McCoy's pie? Jim's mouth watered. "I think I love you."

Bones chuckled. "I guess I better let you eat the entire thing yourself after that proclamation of love."

"You don't let me stuff my face with crust and berries and sugar and whipped cream...I'll take back everything I said, and then some," Jim threatened with the only thing he had - an abundance of friendship and brotherly affection, not that he'd make good on any of those threats.

"You're going to be alright tonight?" Bones asked, with an obvious show of nonchalance.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Jim's heart pounded. Damn Bones and his sixth sense.

Without a word, Bones did what Jim had half-expected but mostly feared. Before Jim could protest, the doctor was sitting beside Jim, hand brushing his head in a slow, hypnotic motion. It was like a carrot, leading Jim around to answer Bones' questions. He couldn't resist, he was half-asleep, really, but at least he had a Southern doctor's sympathies.

"It hurt," Jim squeezed out the words before his emotions got the best of him.

"I know it did," Bones replied.

"Bones, my mom..." Jim whispered, not bothering to wipe away the one traitorous tear that had slipped out. Hadn't he been through enough of this crying?

"I know, Jim," Bones' voice softened. "It's been the drugs and this telepathic stuff, Jim, that's made you a little more emotional. It'll stop, soon. I promise."

"You're not leaving, are you, Bones?" He didn't care if he did sound pathetic and needy. He wasn't going to be able to fall sleep if he was alone.

"Captain, I wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

 

McCoy postponed his meeting with Sheffield. He'd found that he couldn't quite leave his captain's side. Not yet.

It was time. Time to tell Jim. It would hurt, but he had to do it.

"I have to tell you something, buddy. It's pretty important. I've grown attached to this new you, Jim, how could I not, but..." McCoy said, his voice cracking. The man sleeping beside him had no idea what the differences were between his two selves, but McCoy could name them one by one. "...I miss you."

McCoy held back his tears with great effort and sighed, listening to Jim's deep, even breathing.

"I miss you," he repeated quietly.

He rubbed his friend's head, feeling the soft, newly grown hair that was giving Jim a little more confidence.

"I miss the old you, but it won't stop me from moving forward right along with the new you," he whispered in the silence. "You're our captain, and you're going to get your sight back. I won't settle for anything less, Jim, because you belong here. I see that what's different about you will only help you command this ship..."

He sat in the darkness, his heart breaking and his wounds still altogether too fresh from this painful change. If there was one way to begin his own healing, this was it.

"The thing is, Jim, I miss you," McCoy said, a few tears finally escaping, "but I have to move on, too, just like you already are. It's hard, Jim, damn hard. Quite frankly, I'm a little slow at it and not doing as well as you might think. Spock's hurting, too, though he won't admit it...and you're brave and strong, but..."

He stopped, gathering a little resolve as he remembered every little thing the new Jim did to make his friends smile, laugh, or groan - or show that he still was their captain, James T. Kirk. McCoy's hand stilled on Jim's forehead. Without even knowing it, Jim was helping all of them move forward with his strength and charisma. It was what Jim did, and it shouldn't surprise anyone, let alone his best friend.

"What I'm trying to say, Jim, is this. I'm beside you all the way and nothing, not even this, is ever going to change that. I'm saying good-bye, Jim...good-" McCoy choked down a sob.

He lifted a trembling hand to his face, wiping at his tears. Reminding himself that this was for the both of them, he pulled himself together and glanced down at his best friend. Jim looked peaceful and even younger in his sleep. It reflected Jim's simple trust when he'd asked for McCoy to stay and stirred the fondness that had grown and matured since the first day they met. This may be good-bye to someone he loved, his brother, but it was the welcoming of a man he loved just as much.

McCoy took a ragged breath. "It's a good-bye, Jim, a good-bye...to the old you...but I know that we've gained someone special in place of him - and I'm never letting go."


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the longer wait between updates! The next update will be about two weeks, also. Maybe even three. Wish it would be sooner, but my attention span is pretty short at the moment, with the things going on in real life here. I can't seem to manage well right now but will not be abandoning this story in any way, shape, or form. Thank you for your patience!
> 
> I really appreciated your reviews last chapter and yes...I was going for that strong emotion and angst. Would you believe me if I said I actually cried while writing the last chapter? Because I did. It took me a few hours - or more - to recover. My heart still aches. :( As much as it hurt, that letting go was a necessary, healing step for the good doctor. You may see some things coming full circle soon, maybe even in this chapter. :) This chapter also marks the start of a few of Jim's personal logs, as I promised awhile back.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!

Jim groaned, awakening after the alarm blasted in his ears. "Computer. Alarm off."

Jim suppressed a yawn and rolled out his bed. It had to be early but he wasn't as tired as he expected. It was an amazing, refreshing feeling.

He rubbed his jaw, considering shaving off his subtle beard. "Computer. Time."

_"Zero five thirty hours, Captain."_

_Captain?_ Jim shook his head. Someone, probably Spock, had changed back the computer programming since yesterday.

"Messages?" Jim asked next, almost as an aside. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, but already feeling less disoriented than he usually did in the mornings, it wasn't even necessary.

_"Two, Captain."_

Jim found himself grinning for no reason other than that the computer called him 'captain.' He made his way to his dresser and paused before opening his usual drawer. He'd rather choose his clothes for comfort but he'd be speaking with a few of his crew this morning.

"Message one?" Jim pulled out his blacks and set them on the bed, also deciding that he'd wear his gold command shirt even though he wasn't cleared for active duty. He needed all the confidence and ammunition he could gather for himself if Dr. Jahnas was in the lab this morning. He wasn't sure if this new persona would deal well with her during their first meeting. He had no choice but to succeed and appear as much as in command as possible. Other than asking Elise for her assistance ahead of time, Jim saw no other way to prepare himself.

The computer answered and the first message was from Spock. Jim was to meet him at the xenozoology lab in two hours. It gave Jim more than enough time to get ready and speak with Bones, who'd left the second message. Bones wanted Jim to comm him this morning right away. The doctor needed to go over several details concerning Jim's records as well as the surgery. Jim contacted Bones immediately but opted to send a message before he stepped into the shower.

The morning would be full but after all that transpired yesterday, Jim, for the most part, was prepared, even for the upcoming surgery. With the water running hot on his shoulders, he realized that he reached a new comfort level with himself, thanks to the growing pains the day before and the way his two best friends completely accepted the man he'd become. Maybe the conversation he had with his mother had something to do with it, too. Jim would continue to embrace what had been done to him, expecting more growing pains to lurk in the corners - but he wasn't afraid of them and he could not resent the Re'an. It was a paradox in itself but one he must also accept.

Jim finished his shower and decisively skipped shaving, donning his blacks instead. He had more hair along his jaw than he had on his head and he was going to keep it, the darker alteration to his looks be damned. His closet was next. He didn't have much time and he had to find his shirt. As his hand brushed over the shadowy contents, he found himself feeling melancholy and paused in his search to finger his dress uniform. But remembering Pike and then just enough of his speech on the day the Enterprise was christened, Jim quickly let go. He grabbed what he thought was the first command shirt he came to.

Just as he held it in his hands, Bones arrived. Jim's breath caught before he could invite the doctor in. He stared down at the shirt, struck by its shade. It wasn't a murky gray to him like his other clothing appeared to be. It was something altogether different. Richer, the light reflecting from it in a way that told Jim it was the gold shirt he was searching for. His door chimed again. Jim shook those thoughts away and quickly pulled the command shirt over his blacks. "Enter."

He tried to wipe the grin he had off his face, but it was no use. Wearing this shirt meant that he was closer to being the captain his friends needed - even if his sight didn't return and he couldn't return to duty. He'd still be there for them in whatever capacity that he could.

Jim walked out of his bedroom. "Bones. Need coffee?"

"Jim, I...oh..."

Jim stopped in his tracks, his cane loose in his hands. "Are you alright?"

"I..."

"Did I do something wrong?" Jim asked, his heart rate accelerating. "I used the computer this morning and-"

"No, no, that was fine," Bones said quickly. "We wanted you to. You did nothing wrong."

Jim tried again. "Then, what's the problem?"

Bones sighed. "There is no problem, you idiot. It's the shirt you're wearing. I just didn't expect it. It's been weeks since I've seen you in that color. It looks good and right and..." Bones stopped and Jim sensed that the doctor stopped only because he hated getting emotional as much as Jim did.

"Sorry if it's too much, Bones," Jim said worriedly. "I didn't mean it to be."

"Don't apologize. You have every right to wear it, Jim," Bones said, voice rough. "And I would like some coffee, if you're filling orders, captain."

"Great," Jim smiled with relief. "Take a seat."

Feeling Bones' eyes on him, Jim still managed to get his friend's coffee without fumbling and walked to the table with the cup in his hands without spilling a single drop.

"So, I've been thinking," Bones said after taking the cup Jim offered him.

"More than usual, I take it?" Jim carefully maneuvered himself into the chair next to the doctor.

"Of all the things that didn't change for you, being a smart-ass had to be one of them," Bones muttered.

Jim chuckled. "I'll still meet you for breakfast once I've recuperated from surgery, even if I don't get the pie you promised. That has to count for something."

"It does, but all kidding aside, Jim..." Bones paused and paper slipped under Jim's fingertips. Jim furrowed his brow, discovering that it was another note in Braille. "This is what I was working on this morning before you got up, Jim, and I want your approval before I make it official."

"Bones, what is this..." Jim's voice trailed off. His fingers now slowly passing over the raised dots, he realized how deeply his best friend understood and accepted him.

_Due to recent circumstances which permanently altered Captain Kirk's mental state, I, Dr. Leonard H. McCoy, as Captain James T. Kirk's CMO and attending physician, have amended the captain's records with his permission to show an updated species orientation status from that of human to that of both Re'an and human._

"It came to me last night. Maybe you remember more about history class than the flirting you did and recall reading about the Orion-Deltan case," Bones said lightly. "But, just in case you were too busy waxing your Kirk charm, I'll summarize it for you."

Jim's lips twitched. He remembered part of that because he'd had that class with Bones, interestingly enough. "Bones, I believe that it was the McCoy charm impressing them. Not mine."

"And it only took you how many years to admit that?" Bones drawled. "Well, then, let me summarize the case for you, Jim. After two Orion and Deltan Star Fleet officers became a couple, their pheromones wound together in such a way that neither acted like their original species. They blended until they were a unique species orientation. These permanently blurred lines and the subsequent miscommunication between other Star Fleet officers caused some uproar in the public eye and it took a healthy dose of cultural sensitivity to resolve. As a result, indicating species orientation is optional, with appropriate documentation, thanks to that fiasco almost eighty years ago."

"Xenophobia," Jim muttered under his breath. It was another growing pain, one of a different type, and he couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever be the target of prejudice on such a personal level, especially after the five-year mission when he would return to Earth.

"Yeah, there is some of that still, unfortunately, but the 23rd century has seen remarkable improvement, as you know. Most importantly, this information will be classified to your superiors, so don't worry about it being intrusive," Bones continued. "It's for your benefit, Jim. Since I am carefully documenting and updating your medical files in regards the Re'an mission, it's also logical to include your species orientation. The barrier is enough to justify this change. For one, it has irrevocably altered your mental state and thus, various, visible aspects of your life, including your captaincy. You not only relate to both the Re'an and humans now, Jim, you essentially are human and Re'an. Making note of this permanent change in your medical records, along with my own documentation, will help your superiors understand your situation should they doubt your ability to retain command. I already asked Admiral Archer, who remembers this case quite well, actually, and he also recommended we proceed with this step."

Jim sat back in his chair. His best friend had somehow come up with this overnight, probably never even getting the chance to sleep.

"So, what do ya think?" Bones asked slowly.

Jim's emotion ran high before he could stop it. "I...I don't..."

"It's a lot to take in, Jim, I know," Bones said softly.

"It is, but not for the reason you think," Jim said, purposefully flattening the paper and running his fingers over the dots over and over again to hide his trembling hands.

"You don't approve?" Bones asked.

Jim took a deep breath. "I...I just...I don't know what to say."

"It's too fast?"

Jim shook his head. "No, no. It's not that. It's not too fast. It's right. It's...it's me, Bones."

It was perfect. His friend had shown him even more acceptance, so much that Jim didn't know quite how to respond. A simple thank you didn't seem to be enough but it would have to be, for now.

"I know it is, Jim," Bones replied simply.

Jim cleared his throat, regaining control of himself. "Bones, I'm glad it'll be in there, to clear up any confusion. Thank you." Jim read the note again, hesitating.

"What's on your mind, buddy?" Bones asked quietly.

"You didn't sleep at all last night, did you?"

"Don't worry about me, Jim," Bones replied.

"But I do. I can't help it." Jim pressed his lips flat. He was Bones' captain, after all, even if he was unfit for duty, but he was first and foremost Bones' best friend. He should speak with Spock and see if there was some way between the two of them to ensure Bones wasn't running himself ragged taking care of Jim, a thought that, sadly, hadn't come to him until now.

Jim frowned. What sort of friend was he? Displaced, yes...but...had he even thought of the impact all of this had on Bones, besides the fact that he wasn't the same man who'd left for this five-year mission? Nor the same friend? Which was a difficult thing in itself and a topic Jim felt was too difficult to breach?

Bones made a curious, noncommittal sound.

"What?" Jim frowned deeper.

"You really did become all captainly again," Bones' tone softened. "I can see those gears turning in your head, Jim. You don't have to worry about me, I promise."

"Have you gotten much sleep at all, Bones these past two months?" Jim asked.

"It's really been more like seven weeks and yes, I have. Maybe not as much as I usually do, but it has been sufficient."

Jim didn't like the sound of that. "Bones, basically you're telling me that you've been burning the candle at both ends."

"I promise it's been enough, Jim. I also promise that I do intend on falling into a better routine after your surgery, especially with the schedule I've planned." Bones paused, then chuckled.

Jim arched a brow. "Now what?"

"You used an idiom. A pretty big one. And you used a smaller one earlier."

"A what?" Jim blinked, confused.

"An idiom. An...expression."

Jim frowned, still confused. "So?"

"Jim, except on rare occasions, you've lacked the ability to comprehend idioms and metaphors, let alone had the ability to use them for yourself."

Jim hadn't expected to hear anything remotely close to that. Bones used metaphors, didn't he? And...those other things? Idioms? And now Jim didn't understand them but had before?

Jim sat, a bit stunned at the realization. He really had changed that much, and although he may have caught on to the fact he didn't understand everything they said, especially Scotty, he'd been mostly oblivious as to why that was so. Bones said it so plainly, and the implications punched him in the stomach.

"You may have regained a lot of your understanding of Standard, thanks to those sessions with Elise," Bones continued, "but because of the barrier, more than likely you'll still struggle with some aspects of the language and Terran culture and that's okay. It won't be enough to give anyone a reason to question your ability to command, Jim."

"I should relearn these things." Jim said, still stupefied. He didn't want to appear as a bumbling idiot to other Star Fleet officers, especially his superiors who were used to another Jim Kirk.

"Of course you can do that, Jim," Bones said gently, "but this is also excellent reasoning behind disclosing your species orientation. You may not be able to relearn them as fast you think, Jim, and you may not be able to even remember them. It's a result of the barrier, which has affected your language."

Instead of dropping his head in his hands in defeat, Jim straightened his spine. If he wasn't able to relearn them, he would have to accept it and adjust. "Well, I assume that this is one of many of things I am still oblivious of?

"It is, Jim," Bones said.

"We have a little bit of time, don't we?"

"Before you go to the lab?" Bones asked, tone wary.

"You're not coming with me?" Jim stood and walked to the replicator for coffee. "I can't imagine why not." He shook his head, smiling to himself.

"Yeah, I bet you don't," Bones snorted. "I think I'll just let you visit your pet snake on your own, with Spock and Elise, of course. I have to get to sickbay for that important surgery of yours."

"It's not my pet and it's leaving soon, remember?" Jim gripped his coffee, readying himself with his cane to walk back to the table. "So I have time to listen to my personal logs?"

"That's music to my ears," Bones drawled. Frustrated with Bones' reply, Jim leaned into the replicator and his hand fumbled with his mug. He hissed, immediately withdrawing his hand as hot liquid splashed without warning onto his skin.

"Here," Bones murmured, giving him a cloth. "Jim, want to tell me what's wrong?"

"I think you know," Jim muttered back, a little too harshly before he could stop himself.

"Maybe I don't," Bones said gently.

Jim sighed, now finished drying his hand. He left the rag beside the replicator and turned, leaning his body against the counter with his arms crossed.

"Did what I say before you spilled your coffee sound strange to you?" Bones asked.

Jim nodded slowly, thinking that he knew the meaning behind Bones' words but not entirely sure.

"There's no shame in who you are, Jim," Bones said quietly. "And for what it's worth, I use metaphors and idioms more often than I should. It would be good for me to try to stop using so many."

A sick feeling settled in Jim's stomach. "Bones, don't change a thing about yourself on my account. I'll ask Uhura for help, Spock, too, and we can begin filling in my language gaps as soon as you allow me to do so after the surgery."

"Jim, it will be a long process and - "

"Bones, please," he begged. "You're what I remember. You and Spock. You're what I have always remembered, the good or the fake, bad stuff, it didn't matter. I remembered you. You and Spock were what pulled me through and I don't think I could take it if you weren't who you were because of one of these damn side effects or growing pains I'm experiencing. I'm changed enough for the three of us. I'm changed but that doesn't mean that you have to change just to make it easier for me."

The room went quiet.

"Bones?" Jim whispered, afraid he'd ranted a bit too much. "Say something."

Bones sighed. "I understand where you're coming from, but I didn't think this conversation would go this far and I'm sorry."

"Maybe it's good it went this far," Jim tried to swallow but choked on dryness. He fell into a fit of coughing, his shoulders shaking until he felt the comforting hand of the doctor on his shoulders.

"Here's some water, Jim." Bones pressed a cup into his hands.

Jim drank it all and slumped against the counter. He'd said more than he thought he would but he wasn't finished. "Bones, I know I'll still struggle learning my way around here, but I have you and Spock to help me. I have you, and without you and those metaphors that make my head spin and Spock and his endless logic that sometimes infuriates me, I don't know if I could've...if I could have...if...I..." Jim sighed, running a hand through his fuzzy growth of hair. "You can't stop being yourself, Bones. You can't. We've already changed because of what happened on that mission - every single one of us. You probably know that more than anyone. The Re'an have done enough to my friends and it has to stop somewhere. We have to heal. Bones, limiting the amount of metaphors you use isn't going to solve anything, and I don't give a damn if I don't understand them all. You're not you without them, and I need you. Jo needs you...my crew needs you. Bones, we all need you, the Southern-raised, grouchy doctor with a mean hypo arm but with the best goddamn ability to spin words together."

Jim dragged a hand over his eyes, hoping Bones wouldn't wait long to reply. Jim had probably said too much, making no sense whatsoever.

"Well," Bones began. "If I'd known you were going to make a speech, I would've sat down with some popcorn at the very beginning and enjoyed myself some more. You can give one helluva speech, kid."

Jim gave a short laugh, wiping his eyes one last time. "It was a pretty shitty speech, Bones."

"Jim, I understand and I promise that I won't stop being my grouchy, metaphor-speaking self," Bones paused. "That said, I'm your attending physician and if it will help you, especially at this thing you like so much called being captain, I'm gonna do it. We'll compromise, alright?"

Jim nodded and huffed a sigh. He'd agree with that. "When did you say I'd be done crying like this?"

"I think soon, maybe after a couple more sessions with Elise or even a week after the surgery." Bones tugged on his arm. "How about you sit on the couch where it's more comfortable and listen to a few logs."

"Only a few?" Jim frowned.

"Yes," Bones quickly replied. "Spock decided and I agreed that two or three days at a time would be best. It's a lot to take in, Jim. You already have quite the day planned."

"I'll have nothing to do but think once I've come out of the anesthesia," Jim said, taking a seat.

"You may be too groggy and out of it for a good twenty-four hours to even tell me your name so three is fine." Bones sat down beside him.

Jim frowned and shook his head in doubt.

"Three - or none," Bones said, his voice clipped.

Realizing his doctor would not budge, Jim decided on three logs. "Alright. You win."

"One thing's for sure," Bones said, his tone much lighter. "You're going to keep things interesting around here."

He was going to keep things interesting? That may be true in Bones' eyes, but it wasn't anything that Jim wanted to agree with or flaunt.

"I assume that the old me would say something in retaliation about now, wouldn't he?" Jim mused aloud, pulling a blanket over himself. Since he'd been almost in a constant state of being cold the past few weeks, he'd gotten into the habit of using one every time he sat on his couch.

Bones hummed noncommittally. "Maybe."

"And it would be self-centered, probably reinforcing what you said."

"Pretty much."

"And then you'd laugh because whatever he said would be damn funny but utterly ridiculous."

"Yep."

"Huh," Jim said absently.

"But that's not the new Jim, is it?" Bones commented in a quiet voice. "I mean, he's funny, don't get me wrong, but the whole 'the world is centered around me' thing doesn't exactly fit him anymore, does it?"

"No, it doesn't," Jim said honestly. It wasn't the Re'an way, and Jim couldn't even fathom agreeing to that sort of thinking.

"So what does this new Jim want to say?" Bones pressed.

Jim thought for a moment. "He wants to say thank you for letting him talk about his two personas in third-person and not thinking he's utterly insane."

"Oh, I actually do think he's utterly insane."

"What?" Jim asked, somewhat defensively.

"But it's not because he's talking about his two personas in third-person. I mean, he's not the only one in the world who does that. There has to be someone else. I'm sure it's perfectly normal," Bones said easily. "No, Jim, I think he's insane because he left a perfectly damn good cup of coffee in the replicator and now it's cold and I'm probably going to be the one who has to get it for him but I'm sitting next to him on the couch all comfy while under his damn blanket that's too soft for its own good, ready to listen to my captain's elegant sounding voice -"

"Elegant?" Jim protested. "What the fuck, Bones?"

"Excuse me, my captain's soothing voice over the computer and it's just a cryin' shame," Bones finished strongly.

Jim scowled. "I'll have you know that this very soft, very warm blanket is one of my favorite things about this couch, Bones, and no one forced you to get under the blanket or to sit next to me and get all comfortable. I never knew you were so impressionable and God knows I never figured my CMO to be too lazy to walk across the room to get my coffee," Jim muttered under his breath. "Nor did I realize you would stoop so low as to add in a damn word thingy -"

Bones snorted. "Word thingy. Yes, smooth, that's you."

" - _word thingy_ that I don't understand. That was mean, Bones. Just mean. Better make that two of Mrs. McCoy's pies this week or I'll get a new best friend to meet me at breakfast. Sulu's next in line, you know, because of his swords. And plants. But the worst part of this is that you described my voice as elegant. The only elegant thing about me will be the highly-skilled kick in the ass I'll give you to make you walk over to the replicator and warm up the cup of coffee I can't even remember I replicated in the first place." Jim took a deep breath. "But that I now want."

"Huh," Bones said after a pause. "I think you're giving the old Jim a run for his money, after all."

"Bones, did you even hear what I was saying?" Jim said in mock disgust. "Just for that, it's three pies and extra whipped cream, you word-thingy show-off."

"Smart-ass," Bones' scowl came across loud and clear. "Extra whipped cream? I'm your grouchy doctor, not my mama."

Jim grinned, leaning back lazily against the couch. "Drama queen."

"Kid, I learned from the best."

* * *

 

_Captain's Log Stardate 2260.088_

After we detoured into a congested star system, we rediscovered a species that disappeared from the Federation more than two decades ago. Sequestered deeply in the system, this planet, now called Re'an V, is the only one showing signs of life. The Re'an beings' disappearance remains an unsolved mystery, however. Despite pleasant introductions, the Re'an are closed mouth about their interstellar travel yet they don't hold back their hospitality. We've been invited by their leaders to dine with them in two days. Lequa is first giving our archaeologists time to begin their removal of the ancient missile detected by our earlier scans. Dr. Marcus is beside herself, working alongside them.

I'm intrigued by the Re'an and pay close attention to their customs to the point that I can't think of much else when on planet - and I don't know why. For instance, I noticed right away that Prince Lequa's boys all have shaven heads while the girls hair remain in intricate braids and those are images that race through my mind even now. The children gravitated towards me so I indulged them and learned to play several of their games. We have several diplomatic issues at stake so my time on Re'an V can't be monopolized by my own fascination with this culture. However, I have a feeling that I must continue to interact with the Re'an on a relational level for a little while longer before we convene. That said, I don't think I'll have any problems continuing to get to know the Re'an.

On a similar note, I've been allowed to get close to their sacred creatures, some of which resemble Terran snakes. I'm surprised but happy. Bones, however, is not.

"

"

"

_Captain's Log Stardate 2260.089_

While Bones and Spock assisted the Re'an with their concern of a nearby lake and the effects the water has had on the health of the children who play in it, Uhura and I found a new level of camaraderie. She is amused by my fascination with the Re'an culture, but willingly shares her notes about animal wearing and its importance in communication.

Animal wearing. What the hell? That's the last thing in the black that I ever thought would hold my attention, but here I am, as engrossed as my communications officer. The snakes seem to be aware of my presence to the point that they lift their head and slither off of the being to which they were attached. Dr. Jahnas seems to have the same affect on them. I haven't touched a creature nor will I until I've been offered the opportunity. These creatures, along with several others, are extremely sacred to the Re'an.

While we continue to compile cultural taboos, the archaeology team has discovered various parts of the missile. Dr. Marcus is determined that they will be able to locate all of the pieces of the missile. The image on the missile is incomplete but is too intriguing to stop the excavation. Tomorrow at the banquet, I'll speak with Prince Lequa and request more time to search for the remaining pieces. I'll also thank him for allowing a small group of xenozoologists time with various Re'an creatures so they can continue their own research.

"

"

"

_Captain's Log Stardate 2260.090_

It feels as if I've been here for more than three days and part of me wishes that it has been longer than three days. There's much to learn - and enjoy. I'm surprised at myself and the comfort I have with the Re'an, and Spock has mentioned his surprise as well. Bones still hasn't said much concerning the Re'an, only privately to me in my quarters. He is leery of the creatures but he hates all snakes. I'm careful to avoid discussion of those creatures after I saw his reaction when they coiled around Dr. Jahnas and myself today at the banquet. He could not look at us because of his growing apprehension of the creatures and quickly strode out of the hall. He missed Prince Lequa's explanation as to why the snakes coiled around us and the following challenge that I have suffered a tragedy in my past.

It was better that Bones wasn't there. I'm sure that Lequa's close study and interrogation of me would have incurred the wrath of an overprotective doctor. Now Uhura is curious about that so-called tragedy of mine and that means Spock will be, too. The attention Lequa showed Uhura after the banquet was far from acceptable and I quickly excused us before the prince had any chance to kiss her other hand, which is a Re'an cultural taboo.

Despite that small incident, Prince Lequa granted us permission to continue our search for the remaining parts of the missile. He also gave our xenozoology team more time to complete their research. He is a gracious host.

Upon further consideration, I've decided to ground Dr. Jahnas. The snake was clearly attracted to her and myself, and until I discover the reason behind this, I refuse to take any chances. She had the entire day to give to her research but wasn't happy when I told her of my decision once we returned to the Enterprise and she shared her research with me. As similar as she is to Gaila, this intensity in regards to her work is the complete opposite. However, I can be just as intense (and difficult), if not more. Aleyah has met her match. I won't apologize for my decision nor will I let anything she says in retaliation offend me. Unsurprisingly, it took two warnings of insubordination this time for her to desist. Last time it took three. I may be too patient with her for my own good. One thing remains unquestionable: Dr. Jahnas is quite passionate about her work and that is the very reason she is on my ship.

Since I've returned to my quarters, I can't stop thinking about the Re'an or my friendship with Spock, which is why this log is longer than usual. I enjoyed the chess game with Spock tonight, even though I could hardly concentrate on the game itself and continued my losing streak. As I anticipated, Uhura didn't hold back. Spock knows what Lequa said and questioned the tragedy in my past. He seemed genuinely concerned for my well-being but seemed to wait for my cue. I assured him that I was fine and that I wanted to speak to him about it but didn't think this evening was the appropriate time to discuss things. Tomorrow, since I asked Bones to keep me accountable for my one hundred day plan, he will probably remind me I have only days left to keep to it, but I couldn't focus because of the Re'an and Tarsus is a bitch to talk about. Spock understood my reluctance to talk about my past and said no more about it. I changed the subject and asked him what he thought of Lequa and his interactions with Uhura. He answered as I expected. We both agree that Uhura shouldn't be without he or I or a member of security for the duration of the mission.

I look forward to Spock's companionship and can honestly say that I crave it. He keeps me grounded in more ways than one. We're closer than we've ever been before and I trust him enough to share that so-called tragedy with him in a few short days. I'm also determined that chess games with Spock will become a regular post-shift activity, at least twice a week. It relaxes both of us, so why not? I'll ask him tomorrow. Because I already requested that our chefs to provide Plomeek soup made from scratch the next time, I'm sure I'll be able to make Spock an offer he can't refuse.

* * *

 

His friends were damn smart. Jim was pretty sure that after the third day things started going downhill during the Re'an V mission.

"Three days was enough," Jim whispered, his heart hollowing and all the optimism he'd had before vanishing in an instant.

The older man beside him sighed. "I know, Jim, and by the way you're reacting, maybe we should have stopped at the one."

Jim didn't have a reply. He was already on his feet and moving towards his room as if he were in a dream. He didn't hear Bones fall into step behind him. He didn't see his doctor's worried face or hear him comm the acting captain. Jim was in another world, thinking of a wonderful connection he had with his other best friend that was now broken. It was broken and unattainable - and Jim couldn't find it within himself to believe that it would ever be the same again. Jim repeated Spock's name over and over in his apology, as if that could ease the hurt rising in his chest.

_I'm sorry, Spock. So sorry. I'm sorry. Spock, I'm sorry._

Hands trembling, Jim tried to clench them tightly by his side as he stared at his closet. What he wanted was in there but to hold it in his hands would only make the reality even more devastating. When his hands finally closed and he was able to dig his nails into his flesh, a voice called softly beside him.

"Jim."

"I'm sorry, Spock," Jim repeated aloud.

"An apology is illogical," Spock said.

Jim gave him a crooked, faltering smile. "I know, but it helps to say it."

"That is also illogical," Spock said.

"Again, it helps," Jim said quietly.

A body shifted beside him, brushing past Jim and stepping nearer to his closet. Jim swallowed uncomfortably, knowing Spock was going to retrieve it.

"You don't have to do that, Spock." Jim took a deep breath. "Leaving it in there may be best. I don't...I don't know what I was thinking."

"You were thinking of something precious to both of us and I must retrieve it for you," Spock said quietly. "To show you what I see."

"Spock, I can't see," Jim said. It was the whole point as to why this part was irreparable and painful - and he couldn't imagine putting Spock through this now.

"Please, Jim, wait for me at your table," the Vulcan said.

"Jim? Let's go," Bones said quietly, urging him to move. Jim obeyed but once they reached his table he couldn't take another step or find a seat. His body was as heavy as his heart. He'd failed his friends over and over, whether or not it had been true during the mission, and this failure? To have lost his sight? He couldn't watch as the reality of it struck once more and hurt Spock, too, for as much as it pained Jim, he sensed that his friend would feel this loss perhaps even more deeply.

Wood connected with wood and Jim heard the pieces of his chess set gently rattle against together inside their small box. He wondered if his hollowed heart had any hope left in it to do the same.

"It is not impossible," Spock said. "Since the forming of our bond, I have learned that your capacity for memory exceeds that of the average human. I have also learned that our connection from the bond is vibrant and rich and more so since your sessions with Elise. Furthermore, I hypothesize that I would be able to help you envision the game in your mind in much the same way you have kept your memories alive of your childhood and of the years at the Academy."

Before he could help himself, Jim reached out and finding the chess board on the table, touched the wood reverently. If what Spock said was true...

"You know this game, Jim," Bones added. "And Spock is right, Jim. The Re'an barrier aside, as good as your memory is, combined with the patience that Spock has and this bond of yours, I have no doubt you'll still be able to play."

"If the surgery doesn't work, you mean?" Jim said, with more calmness than he had. He caressed the wood, tracing its shape in one continuous stroke.

"Yes," Bones said quietly.

Jim sighed, his hand dropping heavily from the board. "I remembered our last game, Spock, after listening to my log from that day. I was distracted, mostly because of the Re'an and partly from..." The words died in his throat. It didn't matter why he'd been distracted. It was too late to change what had happened. Jim pulled out three chess pieces from the small box beside the board, holding them in the palm of his hand. As soon as he did, the scent of the wood washed over him, reminding him of other games that he'd played with his first officer. "The thing is, Spock, I can't see these. They're too small for me to make out any distinct shape or a light or dark shade. I can feel them, but that's not enough. Remembering and knowing...they're not enough."

"You are correct," Spock said, the Vulcan's simple, blunt reply biting. Jim steadied himself, repeating to himself that he was a captain and this was no any different from other challenges he had faced. He did not understand his sudden, emotional response and found that Spock's logical reply wasn't so harsh after all but strengthened his own resolve. "It is not enough to play as you have played before, Jim, but it is more than enough to play without your sight."

"You really believe that, don't you?" Jim asked, brow furrowed.

"I do, Captain," Spock said.

"We both do, Jim," Bones replied. "It may sound like a headache now, Jim, but your brain has done amazing things before."

Jim forced a smile. "You have a little too much faith in me."

"We have faith in you because you are our friend, Jim," Spock said softly.

Jim cupped the pieces in his palm. He should let them go. He should let go of the very idea that he could someday play this game with Spock ever again, but these were his friends and he could not...not yet. Not really.

"Jim, what pieces do you have in the palm of your hand?" Spock asked.

"A pawn. A knight," Jim took a deep breath. "And a king."

"You are correct."

"Being correct proves nothing." Jim set them down, all but the knight. He clenched his fingers around it, hoping that Spock would understand that he didn't want to go any further today. He couldn't sit down as a blind man and attempt to play a game that he loved with a friend he loved and that he had failed.

_I can't Spock._

"Jim, I am not adverse to playing a game at a later time, if that is your wish," Spock said.

It wasn't his wish to play again at all but he had to commend his first officer for his slightly devious question and to Jim's chagrin, he almost smiled. "I believe you're twisting my thoughts for your own purposes, Spock," he said dryly.

"Jim, I would never attempt such a grand yet satisfying feat," Spock stated.

Jim shook his head. "It's pointless to use flattery, Spock."

"He's right, Spock," Bones murmured. "Flattery will get you nowhere with our new Captain."

"Doctor, that is a fascinating revelation. Now that the captain is Re'an and human, using flattery against the captain will, indeed, be futile," Spock said. "But it is not my intention to use flattery. I speak only the truth, which is this: I simply wish to acquire a promise from the captain that he will engage in one chess game."

"Alright, then. I believe that is a compromise." Bones hesitated. "What do you think, Jim?"

Jim needed only a moment to decide. To appease his friends and show them kindness for all that they had done for him, he agreed. "After my surgery, Spock. After the week Bones says I need to recuperate, I will play one game with you."

As Spock and Bones returned the chess board and its pieces to Jim's closet, neither mentioned the knight that Jim kept, gripped firmly and protectively in his hand.

* * *

 

Soona waited in Dr. Jahnas' office, connected to the main part of the xenozoology lab, well aware that her silence seemed to bother the always vibrant scientist. Aleyah had already tried to coax her into a conversation about the sickly Re'an creature. Finding that Soona would not speak other than a simple comment about the snake, the scientist offered a sincere but quick smile and returned to her desk on the other side of the small room. Soona's nerves were getting the best of her this morning as they always did when she thought of Captain Kirk and not even the presence of her grandmother calmed her.

"I'll miss you," Soona whispered to her grandmother. Elise watched her with an absolute love in her eyes that Soona had never known while on Re'an V and had forgotten if she'd ever known as a small child on Betazed. She reined in her sadness to help her grandmother. She had only just been reunited with her family but someone else needed her grandmother more. Soona would not be selfish. Leaving her grandmother here on the ship where she'd be of help to the captain was a small sacrifice in comparison to what the captain had essentially sacrificed for her. Soona would go on, away from the only other one who understood what it was like to be tied to the Re'an culture.

"It is necessary that I remain, but you already understand that in your compassionate heart, Sonja. I'll still be able to speak with you," Elise calmly answered.

"I know." Soona touched the glass encasing the snake.

"You will have your parents," Elise murmured.

Yes, she would. A mother and father who still would not speak with their Betazoid relative and elder. "I'm sorry that they are too stubborn."

"Don't be, Sonja," Elise's eyes were soft as she stared at Soona. "It is understandable that your mother continues to harbor bitterness. She needs to see a Betazoid healer and you must convince her of this."

"She could see you," Soona replied, knowing her mother would not.

"I would gladly assist her but she must find someone else to heal her heart. With you home, she may change her mind." Elise paused. "In fact, I am sure she'll agree now that her only daughter has been found."

"I heard her cry last night." Soona felt no guilt sharing the truth about her mother. Someone besides her should know.

"She is grateful you are alive."

"She doesn't understand me." Soona looked down at the lethargic snake who found a covering of grass and coiled itself limply into it. Soona thought she'd understood these creatures. This one should be dead. It should have died weeks ago, before the captain had been well enough to see it alive.

"Give her time, Sonja."

Maybe they all needed time. Soona felt like she had deaged after leaving Re'an V. She was several years older than Captain Kirk, four to be exact, but felt at least a decade younger, maybe more. Much more. She was homeless, still out of touch with herself and the world around her now that she'd stepped off of the Enterprise and onto the Star Base. If she could have more than the promise of comms with her grandmother, she thought she could find her own strength and help her mother overcome her bitterness.

"Come, Sonja," Elise said quickly, inclining her head towards the main room of the lab. "It's time to meet the captain."

"We aren't meeting in here?" Soona thought he wanted to see the snake.

"No, not in here," Elise murmured, already walking away. "He needs that time alone. I already sense that the snake anticipates him."

"What?" Soona exclaimed, drawing Dr. Jahnas' attention. "You can sense the creature's emotions?"

"Yes. As a Betazoid, I am sensitive to animals. Being that this is a small creature, sensing its emotion does me no harm."

"So it knows that Captain Kirk is coming? Even though he is in the corridor? And despite the fact that he is not a Re'an?" Dr. Jahnas' eyes gleamed.

Elise gave one slow nod. "Yes."

"How could it?" Aleyah asked urgently.

"I cannot explain why, Dr. Jahnas. It is a private matter."

"They changed him somehow, didn't they?" Aleyah murmured. "Well, that explains everything."

Elise looked at the xenozoologist with a mask of cool calmness but Soona wasn't fooled. Her grandmother would rather Dr. Jahnas leave the captain alone, but given Aleyah's knowledge and interest of the Re'an creatures, it would be difficult. "Dr. Jahnas, the captain's presence explains the creature's unwillingness to die but we cannot know the true affect that the captain will have on the creature or -"

"The affect the creature will have on Jim," Aleyah murmured, her eyes wide with excitement as she stared at the miserable creature under the glass.

Soona bristled. Captain Kirk wasn't a specimen to be examined and she couldn't help but think that was exactly what Aleyah considered him to be. If Soona was on Re'an V and surrounded by the Re'an, she'd have the confidence of a warrior, the extremely rare class of a more assertive Re'an. Here, she didn't have that confidence and couldn't protect the captain as she had weeks ago. She felt useless.

"Soona," Elise said softly. Soona jerked her head up. Something bothered her grandmother, something more than she'd disclosed to either of them for her to use Soona's Re'an name. "It's time. Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock are almost here."

Soona dutifully followed her, her irritation rising when she heard the light footsteps of Dr. Jahnas behind her.

Once in the main area of the lab, Soona leaned in closer to her grandmother. "I wish I could - " The word stay was lost with the swish of the lab doors opening. Soona inhaled sharply. They were here and before Soona, Elise, or Dr. Jahnas could say a word, the man in the gold shirt beat them all to it.

"Good morning, Dr. Jahnas. Elise," he nodded in their general direction. "Soona, thank you for staying to speak with me one last time. I expected you to be halfway to Earth by now."

The captain's voice held a little bit of teasing and nothing about his eyes or facial expression or even body language hinted at his blindness. It was a remarkable change since the last time Soona had seen him, and combined with his captainly air, Soona was given a glimpse of the man she'd seen before the Re'an destroyed his life. But, it was only a glimpse. He was not the same, but it was enough. In that moment, her respect for her grandmother and her healing abilities swelled.

"I wanted to give you something," Soona said, grabbing a small box from a nearby counter. After first exchanging a glance with the silent and stoic first officer standing beside Kirk, she took a breath to calm herself and stepped forward. "Here, Captain."

The captain's warm fingers brushed over hers as he took the box from her grasp with the confidence of a seeing man. She forced herself not to jerk her hands away and allowed them to linger. This was her friend, she told herself. A captain, yes, but a friend who was more like a brother. Her grandmother's hand gently grasped her right elbow, steadying Soona.

"It's Jim," Captain Kirk smiled. "In case you forgot since our last meeting."

The unexpected, light-hearted words made her laugh. "I guess I did forget...Jim."

"Soona, you didn't need to give me a gift," Jim said but he weighed the box in his hands.

"There isn't much I can do to thank you," Soona said honestly, "and I did have some help from your nurse."

"My nurse?" Jim arched a brow in question.

"Christine," Soona provided.

Jim's face lit up. "So I _do_ smell food."

"You may have had something similar at the banquet, Jim. We used similar ingredients used in the Re'an recipe," Soona added. "I hope you enjoy it."

Jim smiled. "It smells great. I'm sure I will. Thank you, Soona."

Soona exchanged a glance with her grandmother.

"Captain Kirk, Dr. Jahnas and I will be awaiting you in the other room. Please, take your time," Elise said, understanding immediately that Soona wanted to speak with Jim alone. Dr. Jahnas' eyebrows shot up but she silently led Elise back to the room with the snake.

"She suspects you've changed, Cap...Jim," Soona said once Aleyah was out of earshot. "But we haven't said a word."

"Dr. Jahnas?" Jim asked.

Soona felt Spock's eyes on her but she kept her focus on the captain. "Yes."

Jim took a breath. "I appreciate your silence on that matter. I'll have to speak with my crew very soon about the change, but thank you for keeping it a secret, for now."

"You're welcome, Jim. How are you?" Soona asked, something within her pushing away her anxiety as she questioned Jim with the sincerity of a sister.

"I am better than I was two days ago," he said softly. "And I have your grandmother to thank."

"Are you sure you are alright?" Soona pressed.

"I'm..." Jim's brow creased and he stared in the general direction of the xenozoologist's office, where the snake now presided. "The snake isn't in this room anymore, is it?"

"My grandmother suggested that it be moved to a back room," Soona answered, still concerned. "Is everything alright?"

"The captain is speaking the truth," Spock answered for Jim, the captain's attention now directed elsewhere. Jim hardly blinked but his head tilted in such a way that Soona knew the snake drew him to itself, just as it had drawn Soona. Although she'd had years to control that pull, she wasn't nearly as connected to the creature as the captain. The barrier in his mind was much stronger and fuller than her own. Maybe it was a bad idea for the captain to visit the creature. It was only going to be taken off the Enterprise in a few short hours.

"He is adjusting and making sufficient progress," a quiet voice continued.

With a slight shake of her head, she, too, realized her attention span had shortened. "Pardon me, Commander. I'm glad to hear that. I worry..." Soona halted abruptly. She had no business stating she worried about Captain Kirk. Although essentially a Re'an warrior, she was aware now that her Betazoid heritage had been suppressed and wondered if it was slowly being uncovered being in the presence of her grandmother and parents.

"I see," Spock said. "Although it is unnecessary for you to do so, I am aware the connection you and Jim have as Re'ans and can offer you the promise that the captain will contact you periodically."

Soona's eyes widened. Yes, as a Vulcan, he would understand on some level the importance of her connection with Jim. Although her connection with Jim was not a bond, they were the only two left and there were times that it would hurt, no matter what the now extinct species had done to them.

"Don't worry about me, Soona. Bones told me this morning that he and Spock arranged for your grandmother to remain on the Enterprise indefinitely as my therapist," Jim said. "I also have Spock and Bones."

"But..." Soona closed her eyes and tried to suppress her fears. She didn't know how she could explain that her concerns included Dr. Jahnas' behavior towards Jim, the growing pains he would still experience, and the loneliness he may feel as the only Re'an aboard the Enterprise.

"Spock is right, Soona." Soona's eyes flew open when Jim firmly interjected, his unseeing eyes piercing her with a deep understanding. "I'll be able to talk with you. You can count on that."

It was what she needed to hear. She took a hasty breath and continued before Jim or Mr. Spock could reply. "And I'm happy for you, Jim, that in spite of what happened, you're surrounded by friends," Soona said, wincing at her stiffly spoken words. She wanted to speak with the warmth of her grandmother or with the assertiveness of Soona, Re'an warrior, or somewhere in between.

"As I understand it, that's actually a miracle," Jim flashed a grin.

The captain's sudden smile confused her. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Just this morning, my doctor accused me of being a smart ass. Twice." Jim made a face. "Not only that, he also insinuated that I may have been a bit dramatic in the past."

"Captain, I believe that the correct phrase the doctor used to describe you based on your past behavior was...'drama queen,'" Spock said, brow arched.

Soona laughed when Jim gave the first officer a petulant look. The commander's expression softened as he watched the captain, and Soona finally realized that she no longer had to worry.

* * *

 

Many moments later, Soona stepped out of the lab for the last time - and off the Enterprise. Jim's heart twisted in a way that was foreign, pumping wildly in anticipation to see the snake but at the same time aching with a deep hurt as a friend walked away.

"Jim, shall I comm Dr. McCoy?" Spock asked.

"I'm fine, Spock. It's nothing." Jim said. How could he even explain this to Spock? Because of the Re'an, Jim was tied to Soona and her to him, but he'd been honest. Jim's entire world had been ripped apart and literally patchworked together - but he would be fine. Part of him wanted Soona to stay on the Enterprise along with her grandmother. It was a selfish and unrealistic expectation. Soona had lost part of herself along with the Re'an, and not just her Betazoid heritage. She'd be better off to find herself again with her family surrounding her and in a place with more opportunities than she would find on a starship. Jim had his own goals in mind - regaining his sight and returning to active duty so he could once again serve as captain of the Enterprise.

"Jim, while you were in a catatonic state, Dr. McCoy and I considered that you may care for Dr. Jahnas because you feared her death in the manifestations."

Jim squinted in Spock's direction, the lights in the lab now hurting his eyes as his focus widened. "Come again?"

"Computer. Lights at twenty percent," Spock commanded. Jim rubbed his eyes, relieved Spock acted quickly on his behalf. "However, I have since realized that although you cared for Dr. Jahnas in a manner beyond friendship in the past, at this time, because of what transpired with the Re'an, you do not."

Jim frowned, withdrawing his hand slowly from his face. Why was Spock even discussing this with him? He had feared Aleyah's death, yes, but he assumed it was because of what had happened to Gaila. Aleyah was a close friend with whom he recalled enjoying harmless flirting. She was someone who'd understood him at one point - but he could not expect her to now, though he wanted her to. She'd been important to the old him, and still was, though Jim also did not understand himself well enough to know in what way she was important to him. Confused by his own thoughts, Jim only asked, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Nor do you care for Dr. Marcus beyond friendship, although you believe her to be someone more suitable with whom to experience a long-term relationship."

Jim's eyes widened. "Spock, since when do you ever talk about things like this? With _me_ , of all people? And when did you even _notice_ all of that?"

"I make numerous observations about my captain. This ship and crew remains your passion and first priority, Jim," Spock stated as if he were reading aloud a scientific calculation and not a matter of Jim's heart. "But your reaction to Soona's departure suggests that you are open to a relationship."

Jim's face heated. "That's...impossible."

"There is a possibility and it would explain why your pulse just accelerated once more and your face -"

"Don't you dare say anymore about it, Spock." Jim warned.

"Fascinating," Spock murmured.

"Not another word, Spock." Jim huffed. What the hell? It was enough for Jim to make Spock swear to him that he would never bring this up ever again. Of all the things that Spock could pick and discuss with Jim, he had to choose to speculate about Jim's relationships and someone he hardly even knew - yet was clearly attached to in some way. Jim cleared his throat. "I have you and Bones. You're all I need."

"We are not all you need," Spock said, voice soft as he reprimanded Jim. "You forget your ship, Captain."

Jim swallowed harshly and began walking towards Dr. Jahnas' office, cane in hand. As usual, Spock was correct. "But you and Bones are enough, Spock. If I can't have the Enterprise, if I can only stay aboard as a blind, ex-captain where my best friends are, then so be it."

And if he discovered that Spock was wrong for the first time and Jim could never play a game of chess with his first officer ever again...

"Wait, Jim," Spock said, gently grasping his arm. Jim stopped, but having difficulty remaining still, his muscles writhed under Spock's fingers. Though the door was closed, Jim turned his head, impatiently listening for any noise from the snake. "I sense that the Re'an creature already affects you. You are driven now to see the creature, Jim. You do not need distractions or a crew member overhearing what we may say before we are ready to explain the situation. Therefore, I must insist that we ask Dr. Jahnas to give us this time alone."

"We just kicked her out of this part of the lab - and now her office?" Jim asked, genuinely concerned that Aleyah would not take this well.

"Indeed."

"I'll do it as soon as we step in the room," Jim said, but then quickly amended the decision. "If I can't manage, I'm sure you will. If she challenges me, by all means, you're Acting Captain, Spock. You can discipline her using whatever means you deem appropriate."

"That is most acceptable, Jim."

"She'll challenge me." Jim stopped in his tracks. "She will, won't she? Despite...this? My blindness?"

"I have no doubt that although she respects you, Jim, she will counter you in some manner. Your appearance today did not affect her other than that she watched you curiously."

"She also liked the flirting we once did," Jim mused aloud. He wasn't sure what he thought of flirting at the moment. It was a subject very foreign to him but apparently he'd done much of it as the old Jim. "Right?"

"You are correct," Spock said.

Jim wasn't sure the new him was up to this. "Shit, Spock. I don't know..."

"Jim, you will do well."

Jim shivered. "Spock, you using the word 'well' gives me the creeps."

"Fine?" Spock asked.

Jim had visions of failure. He shook his head, blinking his eyes. "That's even worse."

"Acceptable."

Jim sighed. "Why don't you just say it. I will do -"

"You are captain," Spock said. "You have shown strength of will despite your recent experiences and I believe your actions in this lab already set a precedent."

"My actions?" Jim asked. "What actions? What precedent?"

"Upon arriving to the lab, you acknowledged Dr. Jahnas first but then directed the conversation to Soona, giving Dr. Jahnas no other option than to wait and listen. It was, in fact, if I am to use an idiom that is common to Terrans - "

"Dammit, Bones," Jim muttered under his breath. "He put you up to that, didn't he, Spock?"

"Indeed, he did, Jim," Spock said without hesitation. "You played it safe. But, if I may go further, your actions were well-played, nonetheless."

"Like...a calculated move, not making things any worse by provoking her?"

Spock released his arm. "Yes."

Jim gave himself a mental shake. "Well, then. Let's go."

The door slid open and Jim stepped in, the brush of his first officer's arm grounding him as the snake's presence - and scent - hit him like the scent of mint. Bones was home to him, as was the Enterprise - but now, so was this.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting, Elise," Jim said. As his heart thudded in his ears, the part of his mind that acknowledged the snake grew, giving him a warm feeling he didn't want to fight.

_You do not have to fight it. Breathe, Captain._

"Captain, it is good to see you," Aleyah's voice dripped sweetness.

"Thank you, Dr. Jahnas. It is good to be able to walk the ship." Grateful to Spock using their bond to tell him where exactly the scientist was standing, Jim gave Aleyah a professional yet cool smile. Despite appearances, he was relieved that she was alive. His mind still replayed the horrors of her manifested death but he had to remain cautious of his present, precarious situation. He wasn't the same man that she or anyone else remembered, but he couldn't fail his crew. He had to act as a captain, continuing to set that precedent that Spock described. If it meant that he must maintain his distance, then so be it. "I know we are putting you and your team at a disadvantage this morning, but I must ask one more thing of you."

"The snake should be dead, captain," Aleyah remarked, acting as if she hadn't heard him. "It is not."

"Someday I will explain," Jim said evenly, "but today is not that day. I must ask you to leave."

"I see," she said in a clipped voice.

"Please understand, this is for the captain's benefit," Spock said.

"I promise we won't be long, Dr. Jahnas," Jim added. "But we need this time."

"Very well, sir," Aleyah said.

Jim stepped to the side, preparing for her exit. She paused beside him on her way out.

"I hope whatever is going on with the snake doesn't harm you like it did before, captain," she said in a low voice.

"Dr. Jahnas, we won't be long," Jim said, pointedly moving her along. She merely guessed at what happened to him, and he would neither confirm or deny the statement.

"I will be right outside if you need me, sir," she answered after a moment of silence.

The door slid shut and Jim breathed a sigh of relief. She had tested his patience but it had gone better than he thought.

_I concur, Jim. It was more than acceptable._

_The snake._ The snake's scent hit him before he managed a deeper breath. _Spock, it's...it's.._

Jim sucked in a breath. The oddest yet thrilling...

_Overwhelming, Spock...it's...almost too much._

_We understand, and we will help you manage._

"It's coiling," Elise took a sharp breath. "Perfectly."

Jim stepped towards the healer's voice, alarmed. "Do you mean it hasn't before? I know it's been sick but I didn't realize..."

"No, captain, it hasn't coiled as it would in its natural habitat, surrounded by the Re'an," she said quickly, "but now it is moving like a snake should. It lost its awkward movements the second you stepped in, before you began speaking to Dr. Jahnas, but now...it looks natural."

Jim fingered the case lightly, tracing the snake's body as if he could see it, but...he could imagine the snake on the opposite side of the glass. He could almost feel those scales, rough under his fingertips.

"Your hand is alongside the snake, Jim," Elise said softly. "You're connected."

He nodded, not surprised. "I expected to hear something like that."

"No, you misunderstand, captain. The snake is connected to you as it is connected to the other Re'an."

He frowned, somewhat alarmed at the urgency in her voice. "What do you mean, Elise? I'm not a true Re'an."

"Your life and her life are intertwined, Jim."

"Her?" Jim almost smiled. Just like his ship.

"Yes," Elise said. "She lives because you live and have recently become one with the Re'an."

"The barrier is the cause of this?" As obvious as the answer was, Jim had to make sure this was the reason - if for no other reason than to know that the snake would live and live as it had before.

"Yes," Elise replied. "It has infused her with life, Captain."

"I've observed the Re'an snakes' movements during their ceremony," Jim said. "Their movements were like a graceful dance. Is she moving like that?"

"Yes." She moved closer to him and grasped his other hand, his hand warm in hers as she lifted it to the glass like a mother would guide a child. "Press this hand to the glass, as well. You will see."

With his hand on the cool, unforgiving glass he could imagine the creature's movement. He'd witnessed it enough on Re'an V, but it wasn't enough to satisfy him. "I need to hold her."

"Jim, it is a rather dangerous creature," Spock cautioned.

"She won't hurt me, Spock," Jim said quietly.

"He needs to hold the creature, Mr. Spock, and Jim is right. She will not hurt him," Elise said. "I knew the moment I came into this room your connection would require it, Jim, for the creature's sake and yours."

Spock lifted the lid off a portion of the encasement.

"Mine?" Jim asked, frowning.

"Tell me what you feel after you touch her, Jim," Elise said.

Jim's hand scaled to the top edge of the glass and carefully reached inside. He jolted when the snake's scales first slid across his hand but it wasn't in fear. The connection with the snake was different than it was before. It was fuller. Stronger.

The snake traveled up his arm and he withdrew his arm from the case. A brilliant image of his ship burst into his mind, demanding his focus. He closed his eyes, seeing himself protecting her and his crew to his last breath, willing to do absolutely anything and succeeding to keep them both. He fought fiercely with all he had, despite who'd he become - or maybe it was because of who he'd become. Re'an. Human. It almost didn't matter. The Re'an were there, the essence of them in his head forever but the snake pulled and pulled.

"I feel..." Jim hesitated. "It's almost like I'm being pulled in two directions but..."

"They are working together," Elise finished for him. "Like muscles. One cannot move without the other. You need each other. Not only for your confidence..."

"My confidence?" Jim asked, blinking open his eyes. He gently picked the creature off of his shoulders and held it with both hands, gaze downward as its body curled and curled, brushing against his skin. "What do you mean?"

"With this creature's assistance, I sense that you will become more of that man you once were. She is working for you, captain, not against."

"You suggest that Jim's connection with the snake is greater than the barrier itself," Spock stated.

Jim caressed the snake. The creature was magnificent. He'd known that from the beginning, but he hadn't fully understood why until now.

Elise nodded. "Indeed, I am, Mr. Spock, although the barrier will remain, for without the barrier there is no connection with the snake. She will not rid Jim of the barrier because she wants him, but she will strengthen Jim's true self. The Re'an and their creatures lived in a symbiotic relationship and now, the relationship between your captain and this creature is very similar. She has latched on to him, sensing the barrier before he sensed her. It is in her nature to connect with him, and as a Re'an, it is now in his nature to care for her as she helps him."

Jim looked fondly at the curling creature. This was another growing pain, one he had no choice but to accept as a new nature had taken over.

"We cannot separate the two," Spock murmured.

And Jim didn't wish to be separated from the creature. He wouldn't let her go, not even for Bones. Jim took a sharp breath, that last thought almost frightening.

"If she leaves the Enterprise and the captain remains behind," Elise paused. "She will die."

Jim's throat closed. He instinctively released his grasp on the snake, allowing the creature to slide up his arm and onto his shoulders once more where she was comfortable and safe.

"And the captain?" Spock asked after a short silence.

"This strong attachment between the two cannot be broken," Elise said quietly. "If he remains and she is taken to Earth, although he will not die..."

Jim grew light-headed.

"...your captain _will_ suffer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Orion-Deltan case is not canon. I came up with the initial, yet very generic idea of these two specific species somehow causing a reason to identify 'species orientation.' However, thanks to the very creative and wonderful Rubyhair, we now have the details of that case - and a beta'd chapter. :) Remaining errors are mine, of course.
> 
> Also, I must thank Cansei de Ser Sexy for helping me with Jim's shirt detail in the beginning of the scene - it was a nice touch that I wouldn't have thought to include! :)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the banter. :) After all the angst and despite a few things that have to be worked out yet, such as the snake and Jim's blindness, these boys needed that comfort.
> 
> I will try my best to post in two weeks. Until next time... :)


	38. Chapter 38

When he heard that his ties to the Re'an had only been reinforced, Jim did the only thing he thought he could do. It was something he'd done his entire life and something other people in his life had done to him. That's why he'd been so good at it - up until he'd been given the Enterprise.

He _ran_.

"If you'll excuse me," he said. The snake's scales were rough over Jim's skin as it coiled tightly, but he peeled the creature away from his body like it was an unwanted leech. It scraped his skin, almost tearing at his flesh, as if he'd wrenched part of himself away along to it. "I think I'm done here."

"Jim, I don't recommend replacing her in the case so soon," Elise said, a hint of urgency escaping through her usual mask of calm.

"A decision needs to be made." Jim said. He tried to ignore his body's flight or fight reaction and the writing creature twisted around his forearm and hand, and carefully worked his empty hand to the top edge of the snake's case. Once his hand gripped the edge, grounding him to the location of the open top, he set the snake inside with deliberate movements. He swallowed back an unexpected, billowing wave of nausea. His breath became labored, his heart now thudding in his ears, but he had to strong. He had to do right by Bones. If he didn't, Jim would never forgive himself.

"The decision is clear, Jim," Spock said slowly. "The creature must remain here on the Enterprise with you."

Jim backed away from the snake, pivoted, and stepped into the main room of the lab before his weakness for the snake destroyed the rest of his sound thinking. He took a short, lean breath but something gripped him like a vise in his chest. The scent of the snake and his connection with the creature had almost obliterated his clearer thinking, but now as he leaned his back against the wall beside the door, he was sure he could now process his decision. Only seconds ago he relinquished the snake but sweat already pressed into his back and his hands shook as if they'd never be still again. He crossed his arms, hiding his empty hands as his weakness as a Re'an was laid bare. Spock stood beside him, silent as Jim looked up at the dull ceiling. "I can't do that to him."

"Jim, you do not have a choice," Spock said softly.

"There's always a choice," Jim said. He'd said no to the snake, yet he had no authority over the situation. He wasn't captain- Spock was. Therefore, without the usual authority he had, Spock would be the one to make the call. Maybe even Bones, himself, since he was Jim's attending physician. Still, it wasn't right. Jim couldn't do this to his best friend. Breaking a promise he'd made to Bones crushed Jim. "He hates them."

The worst case scenario repeated over and over in his head. Bones, resenting the creature and, in turn, resenting Jim. Jim didn't know when it would happen but he was certain that, eventually, the friendship would be over.

_He will not resent you, Jim. Do not imagine how your dearest friend will react. It is illogical._

"Do you know why Bones hates snakes?" Jim asked Spock, clenching his hands.

"It is not relevant for me to know the reason for Leonard's distaste for snakes, only that he will agree with my decision," Spock said. "The creature must remain on the Enterprise to ensure your health, captain."

"It is relevant, Spock," Jim pleaded. "He's my friend. I promised him the snake would be off the Enterprise."

"Leonard and I must look out for your best interests," Spock said. "I have no doubt that Leonard will understand what must be done for the captain's sake."

"You are captain, Spock. Not me. If this surgery doesn't work...and even if it does, it could be months before my sight returns." Jim had to do the right thing, and the right thing was keeping his promise. "There is no guarantee. Thus, it makes sense that I return to Earth with the snake."

"You do not wish to return to Earth, Jim." Spock's reprimand stung.

"To spare Bones, I would-"

"Not wish to cause Leonard the emotional pain of losing his dearest friend not once, not twice, but three times," Spock said softly. "Could you with your new conscience inflict such heartache upon the doctor?"

"No." Jim's head dropped limply and his gaze rested on the floor as Spock's words hit their mark, the part of his heart that would detest himself if he caused Bones more pain. If Jim left the Enterprise with the sole purpose in mind to get as far away from the doctor as possible, it would devastate Bones. It would devastate Jim. It would possibly do more damage than if Jim kept the snake. "I can't do that to him."

"Very well. The creature stays," Spock announced.

"Mr. Spock," Elise said. "May I suggest that the captain keeps within close proximity to her for now. It is for both of their best interests."

"Not in sickbay," Jim swiftly interjected before Spock could state a more logical solution. "No one needs that as a distraction."

"That may be so, but she needs to be near you, Jim," Elise said.

"My leaving upset her," he acknowledged quietly.

"It did but it did no real damage, not yet." Elise commented. "However, your own unease resulted from your abrupt abandonment of her."

Jim dragged a hand over his face. Did he really want to be attached this way to a damn snake?

He considered trying to find a way to break this new, intrusive connection, but as he did, his heart clenched as if it were in the clutches of a hand a hundred times stronger than his own, strangling him.

_Your attachment can't be helped, Jim. There is no shame in it._

Jim wasn't worried about himself. _It was Bones. Elise, I'm not ashamed. This snake...breaking my promise...it will all hurt Bones._

_Yes, it may, but the commander is correct. You'll hurt your friend more by choosing to live your life away from him. I have lived a long life, Jim. I've seen and done many things, and regret is not one of my proudest choices. You will regret leaving the Enterprise and your life will be unfulfilled and tormented as you leave your two best friends behind. You need not only the snake but them, as well._

"Would she sense the captain sufficiently in his quarters?" A low feminine voice carried from across the room.

"Dr. Jahnas, you bring up a valid solution," Spock said.

"Yes," Elise agreed. "If he accompanied her to his quarters before his surgery, allowing her to become comfortable in his environment, I believe she would be comforted."

"It is a compromise," Spock said. "Jim?"

Jim's heart twisted again, torn between relief and fear. Elise was right. Spock was right. And, so far, Bones oblivious. "I can't break my promise to him."

"You are not breaking your promise. It is my decision. Thus, it is out of your hands," Spock said.

"She, like me, is a reminder of everything that has happened," Jim couldn't possibly do this to Bones. It was enough that Jim had changed - but adding this creature to Jim's life? Allowing it to be in the midst of it all here on the Enterprise?

"The snake's presence may indeed remind Leonard of past events but it is also the catalyst to your healing," Spock stated. "While you return to your quarters with Elise and the creature, I will meet with Dr. McCoy and discuss the situation in wake of this new development. Dr. Jahnas..."

"Yes, sir," Aleyah said.

"We will require your assistance to appropriately transport the snake in its case to the captain's quarters," Spock said.

"Certainly, sir," Aleyah said without hesitation.

"Jim, I suggest that you explain to Dr. Jahnas the depth of your attachment to the snake," Spock said. "It will enlighten her with vital information that is necessary to help care for the creature should you require her assistance since the snake will be a passenger aboard the Enterprise."

Jim nodded but the truth was, he didn't want to disclose his new circumstances to his crew, not yet. However, in informing Aleyah, he would gain the xenozoologist's trust and that could be the very reason for Spock suggesting the idea in the first place. Jim required her complete confidence if he was to keep this snake. She was the only one besides himself who could possibly handle the creature without being harmed. The snake was used to Aleyah after all this time and more than likely still acknowledged that she would have been important to the Re'an had the species survived. Jim could hear Bones' grumbling about the snake already, but if Jim needed help with the creature, his best friend would do anything for him - even that. But that was also where Jim drew the line for Bones.

"Please, sir, I don't wish to force the captain into a situation he is uncomfortable with, especially if he is still unwell," Aleyah said, her tone far different from when Jim first entered the lab. It was almost apologetic, with a rare softness and so unlike her that Jim's compulsion to explain deepened.

"It's alright, Aleyah," Jim answered honestly. Jim must proceed in telling his crew, as uncomfortable as it was. He owed it to them. At least he wouldn't have to be the one to tell Bones that a writhing creature was Jim's newest roommate.

"If you're certain. I only wish to help," she said.

"It's necessary, as Spock said. Once we arrive at my quarters, I will tell you what you need to know." Jim paused. He may be left with no choice but to explain part of what the Re'an did to him, but he wouldn't say more than he had to. As Spock consistently reminded him, he essentially was very much a captain. "But no more."

* * *

 

Now prepped for surgery, Jim waited for Bones. And waited. He waited, a bit hungry, also anxious, and that combination was enough for self-loathing to fester. He'd thought the days without his confidence as captain were over. Clearly, they were not, no thanks to the snake, which only exacerbated Jim's burden. Jim had put his foot down, at least. He was not showing up for his surgery with his damn snake and was honestly surprised when Spock had listened to his request. Once the snake was settled in his quarters, Jim explained to Aleyah his new status as Re'an and human. After he told her he needed this snake to find more of himself, that he was a man who now identified himself as a Re'an, she replied with a quiet, wavering apology, taking Jim by surprise when she did not display her usual confidence. She was clearly affected by the news. When she moved on to quickly chatter about the snake and her promise to care for it while Jim couldn't, Jim knew right away. She'd deflected as the old Jim would have. Jim decided it was only her attempt to gain some control over the situation. Just like he would have done had the situation been reversed.

"Jim?" Christine's voice sounded in his left ear. "Dr. McCoy wanted me to ask you one last time about the nanotech."

"Yes," he said immediately.

"Alright. Once it's done, it will be next to impossible to clear out of your body, given the nature of the procedure."

"I'm sure, Christine. Where's Bones?" Jim asked.

"He is on his way," Christine murmured. "He wouldn't miss this."

Not even if Jim broke a promise? He swallowed, now more nervous than he'd been in a long time. "The surgeon said five minutes."

"Yes, that's right, but that leaves us four." She squeezed his hand. "Now, what's this about me having to make three pies? Hmm?"

Jim almost flushed. "Well, I thought more on that. I think one should go to Garig."

"Oh?"

"He...put up with a lot, Christine," Jim confessed, thinking back on his weeks in sickbay. The nurse never once lost his patience with Jim as he'd recuperated. In Jim's opinion, Garig had every reason to do so while working with a man who'd behaved so very different from the old him. "Maybe he could share it with the others."

"Captain, you do not need to sacrifice your three pies," she teased. "I can make more so you won't have to part all that sugar."

Jim managed a small smile. "Promise me something, Chris."

"Jim?"

"Besides Spock or myself, you're closest to Bones. Because of this, I need you to tell me the truth."

"About what?" she stroked the top of his head. It was a trick she must have learned from Bones because his eyes began to close.

"If I'm too different after this surgery and if it fails after weeks and months of waiting for my sight to return," Jim paused. "If it hurts Bones too much, don't let him suffer. Tell me -"

"Stop right there," she said, her voice so soft that his body sank into the biobed, her voice wafting over him like a gentle breeze. "Leonard is not a fair-weather friend."

"Fair weather friend?" Jim asked, his breath catching as an unexpected warmth spread into every nerve of his body. That they must be pushing some drug in his system to relax him came to mind, but he hardly cared.

"That means...he doesn't run away when things get tough, Jim," Christine said. "He fought for your life, Jim. He'll fight again."

"But if it _hurts_ him..."

"What if I tell you that I've seen in his eyes the pain of losing you again, Jim?" She asked gently. "What if I also tell you that the affection he has for his best friend has not changed even though his best friend has changed? It's still there, because he's Leonard. He doesn't abandon people. He's strong and level-headed, with a heart of gold. You know this, Jim. He'll be fine, because he has you and that's all there is to it."

"We need to get started," the doctor murmured. "One of my nurses has started a slow drip to calm him. We'll administer the anesthesia soon."

"Bones. Is he here yet?" Jim asked quickly.

"You called, captain?" The familiar drawl came nearer. "Sorry I'm late for the party. I was talking with Mr. Spock a little longer than I expected."

"Did you at least bring your bourbon?" Jim asked in good humor. He licked his dry lips, his apprehension and thirst a miserable mix.

"Although we don't mind passing out the drinks," Bones said, voice light, "I can't give you anything until you wake up after surgery, Jim."

"I know." Jim dragged his eyes open to see his best friend's shadow and waited for some sign from Bones, for some acknowledgement that the snake wouldn't come between them.

"You have nothing to worry about, Jim," Bones said softly.

"You hate them," Jim said.

"It may be an adjustment for me, but that adjustment doesn't compare to the one I'd be going through if you'd decided to leave."

Jim heard the gentle rebuke, loud and clear.

"However, if my best friend's leaving this ship, it would be a good excuse as any for me to resign," Bones continued.

"Bones, you wouldn't," Jim said, horrified.

"If you're not here, neither am I," Bones said matter-of-factly. "It's a simple as that, Jim. So, are you really staying or is your mind taking you off this ship, after all? Will you stay where you're meant to be, which is here, with us?"

Jim and the snake were harsh reminders Bones of the friend he'd lost; it seemed logical to Jim that he should leave, but it was obvious that Bones didn't want that. If Jim thought himself any kind of friend to Bones, he would do what his friend wanted him to do, even if it meant staying. "I...I'm staying, but I promised you, Bones, and now...I broke that promise. I'm sorry."

"I don't see it that way. This was out of your hands. I know you'd sacrifice the snake if you could, or yourself, because that's who you are, Jim, but the truth is you can't be without her.

"Her?"

"You know who I mean. Samantha."

"Samantha?" Jim realized he'd been out of it for weeks and forgot many things, but this seemed like something he should know. A name, a name that Bones tossed out so casually.

"Yeah. Samantha," Bones quipped. "Your new pet."

"Saman...What?" Jim sputtered. " _You_ named her? You named my _snake_...Samantha?"

"I thought Sam was a nice name," Bones replied, tone indignant.

"Sam." Jim repeated. He wondered what possessed his best friend to name the very thing he detested.

"It's better than referring to your new pet as 'snake,' which is good for me," Bones said. "She needed a name."

That made sense to Jim, or would have if it hadn't been an obvious reference to George Samuel Kirk, teen who abandoned Jim another lifetime ago. "After my damn brother?"

"Well, your brother was a slippery one for awhile, until he wised up." Bones paused. "And I know you've been wanting to see your brother again someday, so this is the next best thing."

That was true, and his mom also made the short list. "Sam the snake. Bones, you're a genius."

"Doctor, the anesthesia is ready," Christine said.

"I'll be right here when it's over," Bones murmured.

"To see another new me?" Jim locked his jaw as soon as the words left his mouth.

"Yeah," Bones grunted. "And don't be worrying about that. The implants will blend in. Those tiny things are worth healing your optic nerves and giving you a chance to improve your sight."

"Won't be able to lose me, now, Bones," Jim murmured. "Last chance..."

"I told you that you'll keep things interesting around here," Bones drawled. "And the nanotech is going to be a reminder of what a headache you really are to me, not just once a day but all day. Can't really think of anything worse, really."

A smile rested easily on Jim's lips. Grumpy, complaining Bones comforted him more than anything else the doctor could do.

"Start the drip, Christine," Bones said.

Jim urgently reached out once last time for his friend. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

As always, Bones was close. "Don't be. I'll be the here the whole time," he reminded Jim. "Don't think for a minute that any of this changes things."

"Captain, count back from one hundred," Christine murmured in his ear.

Jim nodded, already feeling the pull into unconsciousness. "Ninety-nine. Ninety...eight. Nine...ty...sev...en..."

* * *

 

Nine hours later, McCoy stood at the foot of Jim's bed, wondering why he'd even thought that the surgery would be straight by the book. This was Jim Kirk, changed or not, and a complication was as normal as breathing. McCoy had not expected a complication - this seizure - that would perhaps halt the entire procedure altogether. At least McCoy's part was over - the nanotech was in place and Jim Kirk tied to him forever. If Jim had known the extra length he'd planned to take, McCoy may have been denied the freedom granted by his best friend. He admitted he'd taken advantage of the opportunity. He had also looked far into the future and into the likelihood of Jim ever landing in an alternate universe, as Ambassador Selek had.

_"What are the chances that Jim will find an alternate universe?" McCoy asked Spock._

_"I believe that the question is when will an alternate universe find the captain?"_

_McCoy arched a brow. "What are they?"_

_"Thirty-two point four percent," Spock said promptly._

_"You've considered the possibility, then," McCoy replied._

_"Indeed."_

_"Could you encrypt a protected file within the nanotech, also adding passcode of my choice as the final step?" McCoy asked quietly, handing a PADD with the details._

_The Vulcan stared hard at him for a full minute. McCoy refused to squirm under the perusal. His actions were not illegal. He was Jim's attending physician, and what the hell. He didn't need to try to excuse himself from doing what he saw fit._

_"Is the captain aware of your intentions?" Spock inevitably asked._

_"He agreed to the nanotech," McCoy said without hesitation. "It's part of the procedure."_

_"This is his complete medical history."_

_Indeed, it was, from his birth to Frank, Tarsus to the Riverside Shipyard Bar, Nero to Khan, and now up to the Re'an. McCoy also included a few of his own logs with the sole intention of adding emotional impact to the ramifications of Jim's current condition._

_"That you did not ask him for permission reveals that you believe Jim would refuse this addendum to the procedure," Spock said._

_"He'd be unreasonable about it. And if he gets stuck somewhere, Spock, like Selek, what happens to the bond that you have with him? What happens when the damn snake is nowhere to be found? We don't know if he'll lose more of himself being apart from us. If he is lucky enough to land himself on another Enterprise, another me would see the file." McCoy stopped, contemplating the shocking calculation Spock had given him. The calculation, which was based on Jim's prior collisions with another universe, was higher than McCoy had both estimated or wanted to hear. "I guarantee that within three attempts, another me would figure out the correct passcode required to unlock the file, Spock. It makes sense provide this information as a safeguard - and a damn good fighting chance that he'll remain Jim. If he loses these connections, he'll want to find the Re'an. He'd want to be with them, no matter how nonsensical it sounded even to him. He couldn't resist it and then we would lose..."_

_McCoy's voice trailed off. Maybe he was looking for trouble, but they weren't talking about the Jim Kirk they came out to the black with. They were discussing this new captain, and he was invariably dependent on them, with numerous other things out of his hands. If something happened to Jim, and McCoy discovered later that he could have prevented it, he'd never forgive himself._

_But deep down, McCoy knew it was mostly an attempt to atone for all of his shortcomings, fake or not, during the past two months._

_"You have not yet asked that I keep this from the captain," Spock stated in reply._

_"Will you keep this to yourself?" McCoy looked suspiciously at Spock when the Vulcan said not a word and instead, nodded once in agreement. That made it twice in just three days. "You agree with me? Again?"_

_"If you are referring to your proposed invitation of the Commander, your decision was supported by logical reasons and I agreed that the man who is our captain now would welcome our visitor aboard." Spock arched a brow. "This, too, is a logical course of action, although I do believe the captain, as he would before the Re'an changed him, would be adverse to his complete history being at the mercy of another -"_

_McCoy huffed. "That other person would be me, Spock, in another dimension."_

_"The captain is a private individual," Spock rightfully observed._

_"Spock, in regards to the privacy between us, Jim let go of that a long, long time ago when he expected I bail him out of trouble in bars after classes and again with this technology in his body," McCoy said dryly. "This will be encrypted and will require another you to break it and then another me to enter a passcode."_

_"I will...refrain from fully explaining this procedure to Jim. However, if he inquires into the content of the technology, I will not lie."_

_"Fair enough." McCoy nodded._

McCoy had entered a gray area but he would not apologize for his actions. Now, however, Jim was in the hands of Dr. Sheffield, and a complication was a complication. McCoy pressed his mouth into a firmer line and glanced down at the unconscious and now still captain. Less than five minutes ago, Jim had seized on the table. "I'm not sure we can try that again."

Dr. Sheffield peered at the monitor as a nurse adjusted Jim's IV drip. "His heart rate and blood pressure have returned within normal range. That was only the first test of the implants. There are at least three more. Your captain knows the risks, seizures are not abnormal to experience while we test the efficiency of the implants, and he also understands that his eyes need these nutrients in order for his optic nerves to heal.

"This thing in Jim's brain that the Re'an put there," McCoy looked straight at Dr. Sheffield. "It's more powerful than Vulcan telepathy...than any of us as doctors. We can't possibly judge this by medicine alone. For all we know, the barrier may be reacting to the new pathways between the implant and Jim's optic nerves as well as the pathways to the brain. The barrier has felt threatened before. If we try this again, Jim may not just seize."

Sheffield didn't bat an eye. "Is his counselor available?"

McCoy appreciated the man's no-nonsense outlook, but he was ready to have control over Jim's health again.

"Christine, comm Elise," McCoy said evenly. "Please inform her we request her presence in sickbay."

"Of course, doctor."

When Elise stepped into the room ten minutes later, her face paled. One of Sheffield's nurses grabbed her arm before she stumbled against a sharp corner. "The barrier did react to your test," Elise said with an almost imperceptible wavering quality to her voice. "I can help but I believe it will have an adverse affect on me."

"Elise, we go no further if that's true." McCoy looked at Jim's future, now bleaker than ever. Was this really over? Had they come this far, only to see the hope for sight snatched from Jim's grasp?

"I only mention the affect it will have on me to prepare anyone who may need to check my vitals," Elise said quietly.

"We can't put you at risk," McCoy shook his head, disregarding Sheffield's opinion though he had yet to ask for it.

"Discontinuing this procedure will end the captain's chance to regain his sight, will it not?" Elise asked.

"It would," McCoy said simply.

"I see," Elise said. "In that case, I may faint or feel some of what Jim is experiencing but I have long since developed a healthier way to respond to others' distress. Without my presence here, I believe that Jim could seize again but I will provide a mental block for a short time. I think it will be sufficient, allowing the barrier to adjust to the implants."

"Dr. McCoy," Sheffield said. "This is your call."

Sheffield's eyes revealed nothing but patience while he waited for McCoy, and Christine retained her professional mask. Elise watched him with her usual placid expression, bound by the desire to help the man who saved her granddaughter. It was McCoy who was dealing with an internal, raging storm as he considered the consequences, the chance that he would make the wrong choice despite having the best nurses and medical equipment on hand. The seizure had been fairly brief but it had been a complication, nonetheless. A skyrocketing heart rate was nothing to mess with and neither was a sudden drop in blood pressure.

McCoy's brow creased as he glanced down at the unconscious man who depended on him to make the right decision. McCoy had acted on impulse numerous times when it came to his best friend, bringing him aboard star ships as covertly as possible. He was just as stubborn saving Jim's reckless hide during missions. When the warp core stole Jim's life, McCoy had thrown logic out the window, as well as an oath, and depended upon a damn tribble just to try to get warm breath out of the once frozen captain.

_Do no harm._

But, the truth was staring him in the face. Most likely Elise would be fine. Her resolve was strong. This procedure was the only thing giving them hope that, someday, Jim would regain his sight.

Then what the fuck was he doing, standing here like an idiot and not doing a damn thing?

McCoy set his shoulders and nodded to the brave woman on his left. "Elise, take a seat."

* * *

 

A groan slipped from Jim's lips. It wasn't just his eyes...but everything. His body _hurt_.

"I hear ya, Jim."

"Bones?" Jim croaked out, even his lips laced with pain.

"I'll get ya water in a second and also increase the pain med but first I'm going to have to warn you. Do not touch those bandages over your eyes, got it?" Bones said firmly.

"They itch," Jim whimpered, fingers already twitching. He didn't bother telling Bones how badly his eyes hurt, but the truth was that he couldn't.

"I know, and it isn't going to get any easier," Bones said, holding Jim's arm down on the biobed. "Promise me, or I'll have to engage the straps."

Jim sucked in a shaky breath, trying to relax his arms for Bones. He may have passed out as his skin touched the sheets, for the next thing he knew, alarms surrounded him, blaring in his ears while the voices of doctors and nurses were muffled at his side.

"Thought this...just eye surgery," he forced out, hating the silence which followed the alarms. "Feels like...got hit by a ship."

"I know, Jim." Bones said, his hands on Jim's face and something cool crossing over his cheek and under his nose - and then into his nose. A cannula. Jim inwardly groaned. He hated these inconvenient, bothersome things. "Your body is stressed and still healing from the surgery."

"Bones," Jim whined.

Bones sighed. "I know, but the pain med is going to hit in a little bit and things will be foggy. It could also affect your oxygen intake so I'm not taking any chances. You'll feel like you're on a cloud in a moment, Jim."

"Surgery...okay?" He mumbled, short on words as the pain sank deep into his bones.

"Did the surgery go alright?" Bones paused. "It did..."

"Bones..." Jim asked, certain he hadn't imagined the doctor's hesitancy. "Honest."

"You seized when we tested the implants," Bones said.

"Then how..." Searing pain shot through his eyes, increasing his sensitivity to everything else he felt, including the itchiness. It was as if his entire face needed scratched now. Jim grimaced and lifted his hand but Bones was too fast. "Ugh, Bones..."

"No, Jim," Bones said, his grip on Jim's arm gentle but firm. "Hold on. Nurse Chapel?"

"Yes, doctor."

Jim groaned, his arm fighting against Bones' muscle to reach his fingers to his eyes. The sound covered Bones' instructions to Chris. Jim gritted his teeth but a low hiss escaped through his teeth when Bones guided his arm back down to his side.

"Let's discuss this later," Bones said softly. "As I feared, I see that it's going to be difficult for you to not touch your bandages until you're more lucid and the pain and itching decreased, so I have to engage the straps."

Jim's fingers rubbed the sheet underneath him. He gripped it between his fingers, focusing on the softness of the sheet, the gentle timbre of the voices around him, anything to get his mind off the discomfort wracking his body, though it was now slowly subsiding. "A day?"

"Yeah, this will be tough today, Jim, but only one day. I can only see good things ahead. Someday, I'm sure you will too, in every sense of the word."

"Sam...okay?" The softness of the sheets forgotten, Jim couldn't help but flinch when the straps enclosed around his wrists.

"Steady, Jim. This is only to keep you from stopping the healing process. They won't be used for long but this is a critical part of your healing - you have to leave your eyes alone."

Jim grunted, soon finding his body sinking into the bed. The straps were unpleasant, the constant itchiness worse, but so was being apart from..."Sam."

"She's fine," Bones said quietly, the words having the same relaxing effect of the medication. "Aleyah has gone three times to visit her..."

Jim's lips parted in surprise.

"Yeah, buddy, your surgery took longer than expected and you've been sedated for twelve hours," Bones said. "You'll be in your quarters enjoying your pie before you know it. Especially if you listen to everything I say, even the no scratching part when the straps are gone."

"Fine." He could do that, now that he was on that cloud Bones had mentioned.

Bones chuckled. "It's a good thing bribery works with you."

Jim frowned. He wasn't that easy, was he? He thought again, then smiled. At least he was predictable right now, making it easy for Bones to treat him.

"I also see that the drugs are working," Bones murmured. "Good. Just rest, Jim. Dr. Sheffield will be here shortly to speak with you."

* * *

 

Spock considered the human sitting on the couch, now settled in his quarters two days post-surgery. Jim lifted his hand towards his bandages. "Dr. McCoy has advised you not to touch your bandages," Spock warned.

"I know," Jim clipped. His hand paused midair. He clenched his fist and then slowly lowered it to his lap.

Finding Jim's mind open to his calming, Spock stepped closer and laid a hand on Jim's shoulder. "What is it that you need most of all?"

"Time," Jim whispered, leaning his head back and turning it heavily to its side. The thick bandages brushed Spock's hand. It would take all of Jim's resolve for him to refrain from touching the necessary strips binding his eyes and all of Spock's not to assist him immediately with an effort to calm his mind. Spock would be here to assist him when Jim asked. He did not wish to assert himself now that Jim's confidence and self-awareness were returning. "Time to figure things out."

"You speak of the logs. Dr. McCoy suggests you listen to several today."

"Well, yes but..." Jim sighed.

"Something troubles you," Spock said.

"You don't want to hear this, Spock. It's..."

Jim grew quiet. Spock withdrew his shields even more, already sensing that Jim would rather Spock come to a conclusion on his own.

"You do not recall all of Tarsus," Spock said finally, picking up the projections from Jim.

"Not all, no," Jim said, his voice almost inaudible, as if the confession was too painful to admit. "They're impressions. Ghosts, but I feel the disaster they left behind."

"This troubles you? Not recalling this most tragic event of your childhood, an event which has infiltrated all aspects of your life up until this very day?"

"I guess," Jim said quietly. "Funny, isn't it? That I miss one of the very things that fucked me up so badly?"

"It is not amusing," Spock replied. "Your reaction to this loss reveals your character, Jim."

"Without it, I feel...almost...missing. Not sure that's showing my character, Spock. I'm a man who isn't whole." Jim's lips twisted downward. "But there's more. My childhood, Spock, it's a mess."

Spock was aware, of course, of the numerous holes riddling the depths of Jim's mind, but so far, Jim had not revealed his stronger feelings regarding this change. Perhaps it was the connection with the snake or time itself which provoked these grander emotions, but Spock was prepared. Not only Spock, but McCoy, as well. The doctor had already taken a remarkable step to assist Jim in regards to his memories, one that would soon come to pass.

"Could you elaborate, captain?" Spock prodded gently.

"I mean...there are pieces, months or years I don't remember. Sucked from my mind, into theirs or buried behind the barrier." Jim took a deep breath. "But, you already know that. I just wish...there wasn't so much that...that was gone. I wish...I had someone to help me who was there, Spock. Elise can help when the barrier allows, but she wasn't there when Frank hit me or I was sent to juvie or trying to find my mom or...trying to stay alive on Tarsus."

"It may come with time, naturally slipping past the barrier if they were not taken," Spock said quietly, not knowing what else to say to encourage him. However, he did know what could improve the general nature of captain's thoughts. Spock placed his other hand around Jim's torso and gently urged him to lie slightly inclined against two pillows McCoy placed their earlier. The captain gave no fight, which was disconcerting. "You are fatigued."

"I am tired," Jim admitted.

"When Dr. McCoy returns after escorting his guest to -"

"He has a guest?" Jim interrupted, voice heavy. "Another doctor?"

"It is of a different nature. Shall I comm Dr. Jahnas?" Spock considered the snake in the transparent case. The creature was coiled perfectly, head poised as if it were directing its gaze towards the captain. "She may retrieve the creature for you."

"I feel...connected. Even here on the couch," Jim said quietly. "It's fine."

"Indeed, I sense that connection between you."

"Does it bother you? I mean...it could bother Elise, as she is sensitive to animals," Jim said, yawning. He scratched his head, careful of his bandages and gave a deep sigh before his body completely slumped against the pillows.

"Negative," Spock replied, moving to the replicator for water for the captain. On his return to the couch, he also picked up the plate on the table. The slice of pie, cut by Leonard himself before leaving for the transporter room, was laden with whipped cream. It would be the tool by which Spock would keep the captain awake.

When he placed the plate under Jim's nose, the captain's eyes widened. He breathed deeply, his lips curving. "Oh. Now you're talking."

Spock should not tantalize the captain with such a rich treat, knowing that although he required rest to heal from his surgery, Jim would not be able to resist the dessert. It also was the only thing which would keep Jim awake until the doctor returned. "I realize that you have just laid down to rest..."

"I'm awake, promise." Jim's lips twitched up. "I can handle a few more minutes."

And so he did. Spock's brow arched in amusement as Jim lifted the final bite to his lips with an elegant sweeping movement.

"This was good. Really good," Jim said, voice muffled by bits of pie in his mouth. "Needed more cream, though."

"Leonard added forty percent more cream than was necessary." Spock still could not understand the fascination Jim had with the food product but did not offer any protest, especially when the doctor had sent him a dark look. _He deserves it,_ McCoy had growled at Spock before he left. _He deserves all of this and more._

"So I like cream." Jim smiled.

"Indeed," Spock said dryly, amused at the bit of cream set into the corner of Jim's mouth, forgotten.

"Spock..." Jim bit his lip.

"Yes, captain."

"I don't think I've ever heard you call Bones by his first name until today. That means something, you know," Jim said.

"You have cream on your mouth, captain," Spock said.

Jim licked his lips and set his fork on the plate. "I'm happy you two are getting along without me."

"We are always with you and have been the entire time."

"Well," Jim said quietly, head down. He coughed nervously. "You know what I mean."

"It has been a most fascinating process," Spock murmured, taking the plate and glass away.

"I'm sorry that it took these unfortunate circumstances for you and Bones to become such good friends."

"Unfortunate as they are, not all has been lost," Spock said softly.

"You mean the old me is gone." Jim cocked his head. There was not a lack of confidence from Jim as he spoke about himself. Jim accepted his condition, mournful only in the sense that Leonard had suffered grievously from the change. "I wish he was still here for you."

"We wish for you to be comfortable with who you are, captain. The snake has assisted you in this manner."

"The snake does help me," Jim admitted. "Especially now, now that I'm...thinking about the missions."

"Missions?" Spock questioned.

"The truth - and the lies."

"It is natural for you to do this, but I believe it will not always be difficult to process," Spock replied.

"I know it wasn't real but I still think Bones kicked me out of sickbay, though part of that is also missing because of the memory shatters, I suppose," Jim said, mouth taut after the confession.

"I...apologize I could not help you more, captain."

"You? Apologizing for that? Those shatters endangered your life, Spock..." Jim asked in disbelief.

"This ordeal has increased my awareness of human normalities, including the process by which one considers that an apology must be made," Spock explained.

"Well, now I definitely feel like I'm the one who should be apologizing," Jim's mouth formed into a slight smile.

"It is unnecessary, captain."

"Do you not like my first name anymore?"

Spock frowned.

"I mean, you've hardly used it lately," Jim said.

"Despite your blindness, you are well. It reminds me of times past, I confess."

"I see," Jim said quietly.

"I am sorry this troubles you."

Jim laughed. "Hell, no. I don't care. Jim. Captain. Moron, if you follow Bones' example." Jim shrugged. "It doesn't bother me."

"But your memories do...Jim."

"Yeah," Jim rubbed his jaw. "They do. I have to balance the bad with what I know without a doubt about Bones. He's the best damn doctor I know. He's never abandoned me before. He wouldn't now. He wouldn't then. I can trust him to do the right thing, as I always have trusted him. I no longer believe those lies, but they're there. Always."

"It is not only Leonard," Spock said quietly.

"Mind reader," Jim's lips twitched.

"I apologize. You are projecting."

"I guess I am. You're easy to talk to, even when I don't want to talk."

"That is an illogical statement, captain."

Jim laughed. "Yeah, I guess so."

"You are in good spirits, despite being troubled," Spock mused aloud.

Jim hummed noncommittally. "I am."

"It reassures us all," Spock said.

"I suppose this is the good you mentioned?" Jim asked.

"Indeed."

Jim's head shifted against the pillows. "But you're right. It's not only Bones...it's Aleyah. Having her here was surreal and I remembered...I haven't forgotten what happened in my mind, hearing her screams end so abruptly, Spock. It was...it is terrifying. Added to that was my...decision...to bring her along..."

"Perhaps in time these memories will not be as harsh, Jim."

"I feel like I should apologize to her," Jim said in a low voice.

"That is a logical reaction to what you have endured," Spock said.

"Can you just see her reaction to that?" Jim asked. "I could never tell her what I imagined, what they put into my mind."

"You do not have to explain to her," Spock said softly.

"In essence, I'm keeping a secret from her...a big one."

Spock remained quiet. Perhaps he had misjudged the feelings the captain had for Dr. Jahnas. Spock had observed in the past that it was not unusual for Jim to have feelings for more than one member of the female sex - or engage in harmless romantic advances. Perhaps this Jim would not be any different in that sense, after all.

Jim waved a hand. "Enough about me. Before the surgery, I asked Chris to watch out for Bones..."

"What is your concern, Jim?" Spock waited patiently. The captain was fatigued. Spock would not press him, although the doctor and their guest would arrive shortly.

"That he is sacrificing too much and it could..." Jim paused, but still Spock waited. "It could possibly wear him down. If this happens..."

"Surely you know by now leaving will not resolve this problem should it even arise."

"We don't really know that. It will hurt, but it may be the best." Jim moistened his lips with his tongue.

"We should not count our chickens before they..." Spock paused when Jim burst out laughing harder than he could recall ever seeing him.

"Oh my God, Spock, Bones really has it in for me, doesn't he?" Jim gasped. "What did he do? Type up a list for you to use to test me?"

"I read through it three times this morning, captain," Spock informed him.

"No fuck? A list? Really?" Jim gasped through his laughter. "Fuck, I think I'm crying, and hell it hurts, but at least the bandages hide my damn tears."

Spock watched him, amused. "It is good to see you in such spirits, Jim."

Jim regained control of himself after another breath or two, and shook his head. "What can I say. Your company helps. How's our crew, Spock? The ship? I'm anxious to review reports. Logs. Anything. Hell, I'd take a full account of what you had for breakfast."

"Anything?" Spock arched a brow, also amused by the captain's swift change of subject.

"Within reason." The door chimed, causing Jim to break into another smile. "Bones has perfect timing. Quick, Spock, remind me of another one..."

* * *

 

Jim sighed contentedly as Bones came in the door. Spock had entertained him, gotten his mind off of many things, and allowed him to speak freely. Jim hated to see the moment broken but at least Jim was armed. Armed with knowledge. If he could just find the right moment to misinterpret one of those word thingies on purpose, he would. He only wished he could see Bones' reaction.

He also wished he knew why everyone was quiet. "Bones?" Jim frowned.

"Yeah, Jim." Bones said, his voice further across the room. "Sorry I'm late. I...uh...had to meet someone."

"It isn't Soona is it?" Jim asked. The woman had been hesitant again with Jim, revealing a new fragility that concerned him, especially when Elise remained on the Enterprise.

"No," Bones said, drawing out the word. "But...my visitor did want to speak with you, if that's alright."

Jim tilted his head, now growing aware of a fresh, subtle floral scent in the room. How'd he miss that?

A hand touched his, slowly enclosing it with its warm, soft flesh.

"Who..." Jim stumbled, partly alarmed but honestly in shock over the light, purposeful touch. No one he knew would ever hold his hand like this. Perhaps Aleyah at one time, never Soona. Never anyone. Of course, Nyota had reached for his hand multiple times in a friendly effort to comfort him but this was more personal. It was...intentional. Jim's heart ached as he considered that it was even motherly, as distant as that concept was for him.

The hand tightened its grip. Jim's breath caught.

"Hey, baby," the visitor said softly.

Jim couldn't believe it and, in that moment, the realization of what his best friends had given him, this new him, was overwhelming. So much they had lost but they gave to him freely, and they were _still_ giving to him. Time. A home. More time, their undying friendship and patience. And now this - a new memory, something they could all share. He reached inside for a steady breath and a voice filled with confidence but he found neither. Instead, his words were hesitant, thinned but hopeful, and it hardly mattered to Jim and it wouldn't matter to the woman who had dropped absolutely everything to warp through the black and see him. She had cared. Bones had noticed what he hadn't said to his mother. _Bones_ had cared. His mother had talked to his friends or they had talked to her, Bones probably being the one who initiated the contact, and here she was. Here, on his ship. Here, after receiving an invitation that the old him may have never extended to her and the new him too insecure to offer or accept her willingness to come when they'd spoken to each other just days ago.

But _his friends_? They'd seen beyond it all, and so Jim took that waning breath and spoke with a great hope. "Mom? I can't believe..."

His words faded as the back of the woman's fingers caressed his cheek like he'd never remembered nor allowed himself to ever imagine.

"Yes, Jim," she said.

"You're here," he said breathlessly. "You're really here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience with the updates and for the reviews last chapter! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter's ending. It was my humble opinion that something good - really wonderful, even - should be happening for Jim right about now, after all he's been through and still has to go through. I have reasons for everything that goes on in this story - and this is no exception. And, no, I did not intentionally post this chapter so close to Mother's Day. I am happy about the coincidence, though. :) When I set the stage for Winona a couple of chapters ago, I wanted to surprise you, so I am crossing my fingers you were surprised. In my other verse, Jim does not have a good relationship with his mother, and for this particular verse, I couldn't help myself. Yes, they didn't for a long time but after Into Darkness, their relationship began to mend. Now that she is here, she may be able to help fill in those 'holes' Jim has in regards to his childhood.
> 
> Also, it was happytheexceed (thank you!) who gave me the idea in a previous review that Jim, Bones, and Spock must make 'new' memories. It was already on my mind but she said it in a way that inspired me even more and confirmed my decision. Thanks to Bones and Spock, this is one of those 'new' memories. Because of all that has happened, Jim is essentially unselfish. He would never have (selfishly) accepted his mother's offer to come. Bones knows this and acted on his behalf. You may already realize this (I hope!) but his mom's visit means the world to Jim, and he won't let too much time go by before he lets Bones and Spock know how much this means to him. :)
> 
> It was probably obvious that I'm also setting up something for another story involving a run in with an alternate universe. Been on my mind for months and I probably will take a stab at it eventually!
> 
> QWho has begun posting a story with parts of it inspired by Indigenous! I'm really enjoying the story- it has quite the intriguing premise! The link to it is right below! ;)
> 
> Many thanks to Rubyhair for beta-ing this chapter! She's the best, ya'll! Consistent and encouraging! Remaining mistakes are mine. I'll try to get the next chapter up in about two weeks. Thanks for reading!


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading and also for your comments last chapter if you left a review, for the sweet comments regarding the story in general. I really, really appreciate your feedback! It really is an honor to evoke these different emotions as you read...I'm grateful to those who have stated they've been affected this way. Well, we are sooo close to the end of this short fic. Haha. I feel like I've been running a marathon! A few more chapters...and an epilogue that will be more like a huge one-shot, action and more. FYI, I've really developed a huge love of cliffhangers for some reason. :) So watch out...
> 
> I'm not going to add another note at the end, so I'll say this here: I gave you a pretty big author's note last chapter that I want good things for Jim and his mom...I meant every word, but after this chapter you will really wonder what the heck I'm doing so I'll just say this - hang in there! I am SUPER excited about this chapter and all of the rest to the very end. There are some pretty intense moments left in this story and we'll be going out with a bang, thanks to my beta reader, Rubyhair, who had some fabulous ideas to share with me. Also, Rubyhair pushed me in this chapter, encouraging me to deliver some things that were missing. Many thanks to her for being thorough! And as always, remaining mistakes are mine!
> 
> One last thing! I'm on [tumblr](http://restfulsky5.tumblr.com) now, as restfulsky5! If you have an account, feel free to look me up! I'll be sharing things that inspire me for this story as well as current and future projects. Maybe excerpts, too, who knows. :-)
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! I am almost done with the next chapter so an update will be within a week - possibly sooner!

The second Jim's mother moved towards her son, McCoy stepped out of his roles as physician and friend and became an observer. A flicker of disbelief crossed over Jim's face. It broke McCoy's heart, because he knew Jim. Most likely his best friend feared that his hope would be crushed, the hope that this woman before him, who he couldn't see, was indeed his mother. But then, Winona placed her fingers on Jim's cheek in a caress. Jim's expression completely relaxed into a smile.

McCoy exhaled in relief as his best friend graciously accepted the commander's arrival. It had worked. It had actually worked.

"Look at that, Spock," McCoy said, just low enough for Vulcan ears. "Never in a million years."

Not once had he ever thought that Jim would allow his mother to waltz right back into his life like this. Not once. Yes, the mother and son had come a long way already since Khan but they'd maintained an established distance between them. A set, preferred distance that Jim himself said he'd needed.

_"I love talking to my mom, Bones, but I'm glad that I don't have to look her in the eye," Jim said to McCoy in the comfort of the doctor's own quarters, that very day marking four weeks before they stepped foot on Re'an V._

_"You haven't forgiven her?" McCoy gave Jim his best arched brow. He knew Jim was many things when it came to his mother, but a liar wasn't one of them._

_"No, it's not that," Jim shook his head, dragging it back and forth as he spoke just as reluctantly._

_"Then what is it, kid," McCoy finally asked after a moment._

_Jim looked at him, eyes widening. "I think...I think I may have forgiven her a little too much. And by a little too much, Bones, I mean...how is that I've forgiven her at all?"_

_Knowing that no reply he could offer would suffice, McCoy kept his mouth shut and offered Jim a shot of whiskey._

_Jim took a drink. After McCoy handed Jim another, the younger man wiped the back of his sleeve across his mouth, wincing. "And, you know what Bones? I don't think I really know how to handle that."_

Yes, McCoy had taken a gamble and cleared that distance in one fell swoop.

"Mom?" The young captain asked, his other hand roping around his mother's wrist and tugging it gently. "Sit with me?"

Commander Kirk, the strong, blonde woman who was all but crying, seemed to break under her son's words. Spock turned to McCoy.

"This moment is not for us," the Vulcan said quietly, his fingers brushing McCoy's elbow in an effort to move him along.

Although Spock was right, McCoy couldn't help but take one last look behind him before leaving Jim's quarters. The silent happiness he witnessed between the two Kirks did more for his own hurting heart than he'd ever imagined. McCoy was smart enough to see that it had the same affect on Spock, who wasn't as stiff-necked as he'd self-proclaimed.

"Did ya see that?" McCoy asked a moment later as they strolled down the corridor to a conference room. "And ya can't lie to me, Spock. I know ya did."

"Indeed, Leonard, I am perplexed that you scrutinized my own observation of the captain and his mother yet endeavor to receive an affirmation that I did so."

"Unbelievable," McCoy muttered. "Spock, could ya try to savor the moment without dumping your logic onto it?"

"I did not 'dump' my calculating perspective onto anything, doctor."

"Can you at least..." McCoy hesitated. Asking Spock to smile would be bit of a stretch. He stopped at the doors, halted by Spock's hand at his elbow. "I mean...oh, never mind. Just forget it."

"If you are inferring that I must act 'happy,' may I inform you that I am pleased that Jim is at last comfortable with his mother and that you are also comforted," Spock said. "Your desire to engage me in this same happiness is admirable."

"Well, what are friends for," McCoy said. he rubbed his jaw, turning his back towards the doors and his eyes downward at the PADD in his hand. Jim's stats blinked straight at him but before he could even begin double checking them Spock pulled the PADD from his hands.

"Jim is well, doctor." Spock turned the PADD off and tucked it under his arm. "He is with someone who cares for him as a mother would."

McCoy rubbed his weary eyes, finding Spock's words cryptic and his own willingness to hand over the PADD with Jim's readings even stranger. "Your words are even more unusual than they usually are."

"Dr. McCoy, at this time you may require rest more than they need to hear a commentary of Commander Kirk's visit," Spock said quietly.

"They're waiting on the edge of their seats in there, I imagine," McCoy replied. He couldn't see keeping the rest of the command staff waiting any longer. They'd all known about the commander coming, for it had taken everyone's cooperation to ensure that she promptly arrived at the Starbase. Thanks to Archer and Spock, the commander arrived on a ship that would now be assisting the Enterprise on her next mission.

"Indeed," Spock nodded.

"I'll stay for a few minutes."

"Doctor, Jim does not require our presence nor our immediate assistance," Spock stated. "Commander Kirk's arrival is quite timely."

McCoy suppressed an eye roll. "Is that your roundabout way of informing me to get the hell outta here?" Surprisingly, this was the one of the few times McCoy felt even remotely comfortable leaving Jim in the hands of someone not highly trained in the medical field or with one of the senior command crew members. "If it is, then...I'll be in my quarters for some shut-eye while Jim has company."

"I will alert you of any changes to the captain's condition," Spock replied.

McCoy glanced down at the PADD, which was now in Spock's possession. His fingers twitched, second guessing his choice to leave before his brain did. If anything went wrong, if this visit turned out to be too much...

"Leonard, Jim is well, and I will not let this device out of my sight," Spock said, altogether too observant. "I will also return to the captain's quarters in two hours."

McCoy sighed. He would plan to check in one.

"Perhaps it would behoove me as the captain's 'bond buddy' to tell you that I sense a significant calmness from Jim," said Spock.

The free way Spock used that ridiculous term told McCoy that Jim had dug his way into the commander's heart maybe even deeper than he first thought - and Spock had not bothered to stop him. "The little shit has you wrapped around his finger still, I see," McCoy said, amused.

"At this point of time, Jim has a genuine naivety about himself. It is something that neither you nor I can ignore," Spock said.

"Like I said." McCoy grunted and crossed his arms. "Wrapped around his finger. Whether he did it intentionally or not is of no consequence. He still did it."

Spock's gaze leveled. "And you continue to fret for his well-being although he is currently at ease with his mother's arrival. You must know, Leonard, that you have done an exceptional service for him, which in turn has benefited you both."

"Oh?" McCoy frowned. "How so?"

"It has impacted the way he handles the falsified memories of your friendship. Before the commander's arrival, Jim discussed with me the affect the manifestations continue to have on him. In short, he must counteract them with what he knows to be true in an almost constant, psychological process."

"And the truth is what?" McCoy asked, hoping with all his might that Jim's mental state wasn't degrading or giving him more falsified information.

"It is threefold. You are the most qualified physician he knows, you would never abandon him in his greatest time of need, and he can undoubtedly place his trust in you. These things are so embedded in his mind that the Re'an could not completely remove them. However, he requires new memories to bring them to surface as he heals. Bringing his mother on board, doctor, will no doubt solidify these impressions even more. His subconscious has already applied your hand in this event," Spock paused. "His trust in you surpasses that which he has ever placed in you."

Humbled by Jim's strong thoughts, McCoy couldn't think of a worthy reply.

"Be at peace, Leonard," Spock said, gazing steadily at him.

McCoy stared back. The hobgoblin now had an edge, an understanding of Jim that McCoy did not. While it pained him that sometimes he felt he was starting all over with Jim and Spock was not, McCoy harbored no jealousy over their connection. While McCoy slept, Jim would be in the best hands, a Vulcan never far away, and wasn't that the best thing for Jim? He believed that whole-heartedly, enough to step back, but this...this was Jim. Wasn't every day still precarious while Jim was blind and getting used to himself? Snake and all? Jim wasn't out of the woods yet. The very thought of losing him again was a place McCoy didn't want to go, but he did so, anyway, the room tilting before his eyes a direct result.

"Dammit," McCoy said, kneading his forehead.

"Leonard, you have ignored your own needs in particularly for the past seven days," Spock said slowly. "This will all improve in time."

"I don't think it's going to get any easier for me for awhile," McCoy admitted, dropping his hand.

"Even for the chief medical officer of a starship, the grieving process will not last but one day or one week - or seven." Spock said gently.

"I told him that I missed him," McCoy said, unable to keep the pain from rising in his voice. "When he was asleep. It was a little cowardly, but...I can't tell Jim."

Spoken to any other person the confession would have shocked them but Spock merely leveled his gaze. "Have you spoken with anyone? A counselor would be - "

McCoy snorted. "Other than you? Jim. While he snored oh-so-daintily."

"I see, and I am concerned." Spock squared his shoulders. "I am aware of what my friends endure, and I will not allow us to endure apart."

Spock took the PADD from under his arm and held it in his hands, watching the the information which was sent directly to it as a result of the nanotech. One hand then slid over the screen, fingers poised as he slowly read, until his fingers reached the edge of the device. The Vulcan's hand clenched around it, his jaw just as tight. "Jim would not wish us to."

Spock's words echoed in his mind but it was Jim's voice he heard, instead, urging the doctor to make the most of things for each other's sake. To press on. With a slight clearing of his throat and the emotion clouding his head, McCoy made the decision. He'd let go again, for himself and for Spock, the first officer who needed Jim to return and replace him in the captain's chair. He wouldn't allow them to endure apart, either. The truth was they both needed Jim like they needed air to breathe but the only way it was ever going to happen was if they trusted one another, just as Jim was trusting. Fully, without pretense. Despite everything he'd experienced, Jim was stepping forward, both eyes blind but focused on his future, all because his two best friends had paved the way. Somehow, McCoy would live up to that.

"I think I will be in my quarters," McCoy said with a short nod. "Spock. Thank you."

"Leonard," Spock said, a brightness returning to his eyes. "It is my pleasure."

* * *

 

That he'd been an extremely independent man in the past was clear to Jim. He craved that independence to this day, though it was somewhat elusive. He also knew his arrogance as a cadet and freshly appointed young captain had reached its pinnacle at Niburu, revenge and sorrow mixing when his mentor-father died and his ship and crew clashed with Marcus and Khan. When they'd begun the five year mission, Jim had been at a much different place than before Pike died. But now? The Re'an had broken him, absolutely everything now destroyed. He was essentially starting over and had already moved forward with the help of his friends. The fight required endurance and reliance on each other and here was another chance to find more pieces of himself and somehow mix it with the Jim Kirk he was now.

Questions were on the tip of his tongue but with his mother hanging on to him like he was vanishing before her very eyes, Jim proceeded cautiously. Bones had a tendency to try to withhold his hurt from him, especially lately, but Jim was aware that his best friend had lost someone he'd cared for deeply.

Jim drew a deep, slow breath to ward off the ache rising in his chest. How could he even begin to comfort Bones? He'd forever be apologizing about himself disappearing, and that didn't make much sense to Jim at all. He could just hear Bones, telling him to stop apologizing. But while Bones was trying to keep his pain hidden, Jim's usually stoic mother did not hide her emotion. The discrepancy alarmed Jim. He couldn't bear causing either of them more heartache. That he was blind was enough; but he was her son. He couldn't imagine the hurt she'd feel, seeing him like this. The grip on both of his hands intensified, and he wished he'd not been ordered to remain on his damn couch. He wanted to help her, do something for her, but he was stuck, immobile, and in the dark.

But he would try. Giving up was never an option.

"When I first awoke, I really didn't understand my place on this ship," Jim began. "I didn't remember much about Bones except that he was a good doctor and we had spent time at an academy together. We had no connection, and I was afraid of him, afraid of my best friend."

Jim stopped. It hurt to say that aloud, felt as if a knife was shoved into his chest and twisted. If this was his suffering, Bones had to have gone through much worse being that he'd hid the truth from Jim around the clock. The weight had to have been suffocating at times.

"Jimmy, you don't have to explain now," his mother's voice soothed.

"I need to," Jim said slowly. "You see, Bones is smart. I was blind in more ways than one and he used this to his advantage."

Jim chuckled then, remembering how he'd reacted to the reminder of Mrs. McCoy's garden. What was the phrase? He'd bought it...hook, line, and sinker.

"I know things are hard, but it's good to see you smile," she said in a soft voice. "What did Dr. McCoy do?"

Jim shrugged. "It was simple, really. He reminded me of Georgia. Of Mrs. McCoy. Her tea, the kind I liked back then and happen to still like. There's a box of it right over there by the replicator...and it's better if we share," he offered.

"Oh, baby..."

His mother was holding back something in her confusion and pity. Maybe a light fit of laughter and he wouldn't blame her. Captain James T. Kirk of the Enterprise just implied that he wanted them both to drink tea, all while talking to his once estranged mother. Jim ducked his head, deciding that he'd never tell Bones that he may have succumbed to a blush. He shrugged again and ran a hand through the cropped growth of hair on his scalp, feeling awkward in every sense of the word.

"It's good. It's ho - " Jim stopped himself before he made a grievous error and said home. Home should have been Riverside, but it never had been. Home was Georgia - but it was mostly the Enterprise. His home was where he saw Bones and Spock...and where his mom had come to visit him...but he couldn't say any of that. He loved, yes loved, his mother far too much to begin their visit dwelling on the mistakes both of them made long ago.

"It's home for you, Jimmy, isn't it?" His mother's voice cracked. "That's what Dr. McCoy showed you."

Jim braced himself against her pain but her other hand caressed his arm as if to calm him.

"It's home," she whispered.

"Mom, he just...knew."

"Of course he did. He is your best friend, Jimmy," she said softly.

"If he hadn't done that, I don't know how far gone I would have been before we learned about Elise." Jim shivered, reliving those early thoughts and thinking how lost he would still be, trapped completely in a Re'an world with nothing of the Enterprise or of Bones to ground him. "But yeah...this is home."

"It's okay. I understand, and no one, not even your mother, especially your mother, will be upset that you think this way. You never belonged to Riverside or to me Jim. You're..." The woman halted and removed one hand from his arm. The light touch on his head was unmistakeable.

He gave her a wry grin. "I can't imagine what I look like to you." Actually, he could. Different. Darker, but vulnerable and like...

"Your father," she said. Jim flinched, of course missing the soft light in his mother's eyes. His blinded and bandaged eyes could only see darkness attached to the almost damning words. Your father. They seemed to be going down a road that neither of them wanted to go down. Wasn't it always going back to this? Everything inevitably linking Jim to his father? Her dead husband? "You look like him more than ever now, Jim, and it's..."

Too much. Her hand finally dropped from his head. Jim's shoulders sank in relief at the distance and he carefully shifted his body away from her. Some things just never changed.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"No, Jimmy," she clutched his arm, pulling him back. "Wait."

He stilled.

"There is no ghost of your father when I look at you. I see you, Jim," she said.

Jim frowned. She always saw George, had to even now. She already said she did. "But, -"

"Shhh," she whispered, pressing a finger against his lips. "Just listen to a middle-aged woman who rambles too much for her own good."

"But maybe -" _We should stop now, before either of us get hurt._

"Humor me," she said.

Jim's mouth dipped down in frustration. "Mom, I, uh...I have difficulty understanding certain Terran phrases," he said with a half smile. "I guess that's one of those I don't quite get."

"Alright, let me say that again," she said gently. "What I meant was, allow me a moment to explain myself."

Jim couldn't refuse anyone that right. "Alright."

"You look like him," she said again. "God, Jimmy, you could almost be his twin right now, now more than ever. But, while you're carrying on his legacy, you are also your own man, as you always have been. When I say you resemble your father, those are words from a woman with years of regret. A woman who has been stuck in the past. I can say you look like your father. I can speak those words to you now but I never should have spoken them to a four year old looking up at me, just wanting to be held, or to an eight year old hoping for recognition for a report card or a break from being hit by Frank..."

Jim's chin hit his chest. So that was when it had started. He'd forgotten and now was handed the information without even asking. It'd began when he was fucking eight years old. His eyes leaked, bleeding tears and painful memories polluted with heartache and sometimes blessed with holes made by the Re'an, all onto the bandages around his face. As the pain drove into his breaking point, his mother wrapped an arm around his shoulder and folded him into an embrace. Sensing that she needed to demonstrate physical, motherly affection, he allowed his body to be molded to hers. It was more for her sake, he told himself as his head rested on her shoulder. He listened to her breaths and his heart pounding in his ears, both sounds overwhelming in the silence. The pain hadn't faded but she was there, and he was determined they'd both get through this. From the way his mother's voice strengthened and her other arm hugged his waist, she was determined, too.

She drew a shaky breath. "...or to a young man, newly appointed captain. I never saw past the ghost until I lost you completely, and now...you brought life to me, baby. I've never asked Archer for a favor. He offered to give me slack millions of times through the years, things I never took but should have taken, because it was all time to see my boys. But, if I had only one offer, one damn time that I could have warped through the black to see you, I would have waited. I never wanted you hurt. Never, Jimmy, but if I had been offered once chance, I would have waited still...for now."

Jim's heart almost stopped, and a raw desperate feeling rose in his chest. Was she trying to destroy all the work that they'd done to restore their relationship? Winona was a woman of few words. She was a woman with few friends, few anything, because of who she was and what she did but she'd said she'd loved him. Though blind, or maybe perhaps because of the fact, Jim knew without a doubt she'd spoken the truth. Jim took a deep breath. There had to be a reason for this small speech.

"You persevered through it all," she said, holding him tighter and bringing him closer to her heart than he'd ever been. "I'd never, ever want to take that away from you, Jimmy. Because if I had, baby, who's to say that this...your ability to endure and defend what's yours...this ship, with her crew...would still be there. It wouldn't be, and it wouldn't be home. It wouldn't even be. It would be gone."

_It would be gone._

Jim now understood Winona Kirk more than ever, his own self-discovery a large part of the way he could see his mother for the uncompromising woman she was. After all was said and done, he wouldn't resent her for a choice that he was certain he'd make, too.

"And you, Jimmy," she continued, "you need your home more than anything."

* * *

 

Jim was undeniably selfish. In reaching this decision about himself a day after his mother's arrival, Jim didn't bother taking his Re'an side in consideration as he sat on his couch, doing his best to be a good patient for Bones. Bones deserved an endless supply of bourbon for his hand in getting his mom on board the Enterprise, and Spock deserved a friend who was looking forward to playing a chess game with him. Not Jim, who had neither the bourbon nor the desire. But these two things weren't what bothered Jim the most. They weren't the things telling him that he was being a selfish idiot.

Sulu stood talking with Jim's mother, and Jim wanted to barge in between them with his questions. Chekov had been speaking with Winona only a moment early, monopolizing the conversation, but then had to leave because he was scheduled to cover for an extra shift and needed rest - and Jim was relieved for his absence. Aleyah was soon arriving, and she'd already caught his mother's eyes and interest. With her arrival, Jim knew what would happen. Talking. Talking without him, when all Jim wanted to do was talk to his mother in private and learn about the missing pieces of his childhood. Maybe Winona hadn't been the best mother. Maybe even that was even stretching the truth, but it didn't matter, really. If he were to be kind, Jim would say that she had been the worst mother and leave it at that. If he said she hadn't been a mother at all, he would be telling the absolute truth. Still, she had to know something of the worst years of his childhood. She couldn't have been that oblivious, not if she now seemed to understand how horrible Frank had been to him. And even apologized...

"Captain."

The word from Spock was a break in the clouds. Jim shook his head as he came out from under his selfish thoughts; but when his head began to throb at the base of his neck clear up to his temple, he was forced to stop. "Ow," he groaned, raising his hand to his neck, desperate to knead the muscle.

"You are in need of Dr. McCoy's assistance," Spock said.

"No, Spock, just..." Jim grimaced, muscle taut under his fingertips. What he needed he really couldn't say out loud without appearing rude. "I..."

_Captain, please calm down. What is that you require?_

_I need time alone with my mother, Spock._

_I can arrange that._

_As soon as Dr. Jahnas stops by, Spock, and..._

_Yes?_

_Thank you._

He didn't have to wait long. Spock was true to his word, tactfully moving the others long.

"Captain, Dr. McCoy mentioned that you'll be hitting the gym again soon," Sulu said as Aleyah retrieved the snake.

"Possibly by the end of the week," Jim said, finding himself grinning widely. He'd forgotten in the midst of his mother's arrival. "Thanks for the reminder."

"If you need company, I'd be more than happy to to join you," Sulu said.

"I'd like that. You're a good man, Sulu," Jim said, whole-heartedly believing it. "You know I won't be much in comparison to your workout. It may be a bit boring."

"It won't take you long to get back to your usual routine," Sulu laughed. "You'll be back to sparring in no time."

"Captain,"Aleyah's low voice interrupted. "I have Sam."

"Thank you, Aleyah," Jim said as she transferred the creature to his hands.

"She ate well, better than ever," Aleyah said. "I think she is happy now."

"She seems to be content," Jim murmured. The creature stilled around his arm.

"My schedule is clear for the rest of the day, Jim. Comm me when you need me to put her back."

"Dr. Jahnas, thank you," Winona said smoothly. "I'm sure you'd rather be doing something else than being at my son's beck and call."

"It's my pleasure, actually," Aleyah's voice warmed. "I'm just glad to see her eating and the captain at ease with her."

"Let me walk you to the door," Winona said, the two women falling into conversation as they walked away. "I'd like to know more of the snake's condition before Jim discovered this connection he had with Same."

"It is as you predicted, Jim," Spock stated once the women were out of earshot.

"Them?" Jim said. "I never knew my mother was so social. But then again, I've never really known her at all up until recently. I wonder how Elise and...wait...Elise. She didn't say goodbye."

"I have not spoken with her since yesterday, Jim," Spock said.

"No?" Jim frowned. That was unusual. In fact... "I haven't either, now that you mention it."

"However, I did receive a message that she would contact me when she was able to discuss your progress."

"This is unusual for her," Jim murmured.

"I concur," Spock said, "But I conclude that she requires rest and we must respect this. You are doing well and seem to be in no need of her assistance at this time."

"If she can take a break from all of this, I'm all for it. And I do feel good, Spock. Really good," Jim mused. It could be the snake or his mother's visit or the returning connection he had for his crew and ship. Or all three.

"Do you require assistance with anything else before I leave you and your mother alone?" Spock asked.

"Actually, yes. Promise me you'll also take care of yourself?" Jim asked, choosing to be brief in his request. If Spock recognized that Jim was doing well and wasn't worrying about him, than it was the perfect time for his friends to also take a break.

"You have my word, Jim," Spock said in a soft voice.

As the doors closed behind Spock, the last to leave Jim's quarters, Winona sighed softly. "Dr. Jahnas is lovely," she said. "And Mr. Sulu...he is utterly devoted to you, much like Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock are. It's admirable, Jim."

"What do you mean?"

"You have kept your sense of command despite everything you've been through. You haven't lost your ability to lead."

Jim shook his head. "It's not me. It's all them." It was true. They were the ones who never filled the empty place that Jim left. Not even Spock allowed himself to fill it, and he was the captain. They'd never given up on him. They'd never let him give up, either. And if Jim could give them anything or do anything for these men and women on this ship, it would be to return and be their captain. That may be Jim's ultimate desire but it was also theirs. Jim vowed do what was best for the crew rather than what was best for himself - as long as his sight returned.

"So, Sam..." Winona said.

"It's strange, I know," Jim said.

"Jimmy, I've seen stranger," Winona laughed.

"Really?" Jim said dryly. "Your son. Your blind son, with a snake that he can't get rid of. I doubt it."

"When you put it that way, you are the most unique person I've ever had the pleasure to meet."

Her words stunned Jim with their utter sweetness, and a warm, strange feeling swirled in Jim's stomach. When had she ever talked like this to him, like he actually mattered to her?

Never.

And he wasn't sure he ever wanted her stop talking like this to him. He'd already gotten used to it, much like he'd taken to Sam.

"I think I'd like to see her...Sam...up close," she said.

Worried for her safety, Jim frowned as she joined him on the couch. "I wouldn't get too close to her, just to be on the safe side. I guess I forgot to tell you that."

"You don't mean that she's poisonous, do you?" Winona drew a sharp breath. "If that's the case, you're in danger every time you touch her, connected or not."

"Well...she actually is poisonous," Jim admitted.

"And you are confident she won't hurt you?" Winona's voice tensed. "Aleyah didn't even bat an eye when she lifted her out from the case, Jim."

"I'm completely confident, and Sam is at ease with Aleyah because she's cared for her for months," Jim said, relieved that Sam was calm around his mom. He really had no idea how the snake would react to anyone other than himself and Aleyah. He hadn't allowed anyone else near her. "This connection...it's not...normal. At least, not with me it isn't."

He wasn't normal. Hell, he wasn't even himself anymore. And that was the very thing that was tearing up his best friend, torturing the doctor until even he had lost weight. Not only that, but Bones rarely teased Jim. Sure there were carefree moments, but it wasn't the same. It was the absence of the grouchy humor that Jim missed the most. Jim questioned Christine just this morning about Bones. Her silence her only reply, Jim knew he had to think of something to give back to his friends. He'd do anything he had to in order to help Bones and the rest of the crew come to grips with this new him. A good relationship with his mother was key, for without it, Jim was certain he would never be able to ever fill in the holes of his past. And as difficult as finding his way through the curveballs life had given him since he was born on a shuttle escaping the Kelvin, he had to do it. He had to do it all. Even Frank. Even Tarsus. Even the years following Tarsus, when he'd skipped school in his efforts to find his mother, who always seemed to be one step in front of him and never supporting him from behind.

Winona hummed noncommittally. "If you're implying that you go against the grain, Jimmy, I already knew that.

Jim smiled, stroking the scales rolling along his arm as Sam slithered up to his shoulder. And when his mother began to tell him of the days leading up to Tarsus, just as he'd asked her to, Jim didn't panic. He didn't dwell on the past. He didn't do anything but listen. His mother was here, and he was getting the answers he needed. Once he did that, everything else was sure to fall into place.

* * *

 

Spock was aware of one singular thing as word spread that the captain's mother was visiting - Commander Kirk's arrival changed Jim.

Jim's very essence had begun to return to the magnetic state it had been before the Re'an mission, bringing all levels of the crew to his door. McCoy allowed a small number of them to visit one at a time. With each, Jim's expressions became brighter, his spirit lighter, all reflecting the captain Spock knew Kirk to be before the Re'an mission. He was not the same yet anyone could see the similarities this Jim Kirk had to the captain the crew had sorely missed and had watched step foot on the Enterprise for the five-year mission approximately four months earlier.

Spock shifted in the command chair and turned to Uhura. "Lieutenant, please comm Elise and request her presence in the captain's quarters. I wish to speak with her there."

"Yes, sir," Uhura said, quickly obeying his order.

Spock stood, silently considering all that he had observed while on duty. He mused that even when Jim was not present, the captain's own happiness affected crew morale. Not only did the captain's general light-heartedness affect the crew, but the snake in the transparent case in Jim's quarters did as well. It evoked a curiosity within the crew and a deeper respect for what Jim had endured.

Spock exited the bridge, stopping first to retrieve another PADD in the ready room, then headed towards Jim's quarters. He contemplated what he must do to propel Jim to perform his duties despite his mother in tow and on his mind. Spock was aware of the precious little time Jim actually ever had with his mother in the past that had been on good terms. He whole-heartedly agreed with Dr. McCoy that they must allow them as much space as possible and as long as they possibly could. But, Spock would be remiss in his duties if he did not inform Jim of an important task he'd forgotten with his mother's arrival. Jim still did not comprehend the entire truth about the truth of the Re'an mission. He should not be detained from learning of what transpired but neither should he be torn from his mother's side so prematurely. Spock would also see that the time Jim spent each day being debriefed would be minimal. It was natural to encourage Jim in his duties as a commanding officer. Even blind Jim could begin to understand what happened to him as well as begin to process the necessary and subsequent steps he must take to maintain his command once his sight returns.

The emotional healing Jim already received from his mother's presence was something of an enigma. Commander Kirk's presence brought the pain of the past but nothing could stop it. It also provided comfort for Jim, of which Spock had no intentions to cease, but calling to attention Jim's personal logs could perhaps cause a chain reaction. Spock realized the great risk - a mere debriefing had the eighty-three percent chance of provoking another 'growing pain.'

Elise's presence was necessary to ward off any danger and was why relief filled Spock when she approached him in the corridor, reaching him just as he came to a stop outside Jim's quarters. After making herself scarce since Commander Kirk's arrival, Spock's concern continued to grow.

"Mr. Spock," Elise said. "You would like a word with me."

"It has now been four days since you have spoken with Jim," Spock said.

Elise glanced behind her as if to check the corridor was clear, then turned her attention back to Spock. "This is a happy time for the captain," she said simply.

"Indeed," Spock said slowly.

"And thus, it is perhaps the most vulnerable time for the captain." She stared at him, making no effort to explain.

Spock's mind churned with the logic of that statement. Before he jumped to his own conclusions he waited patiently. Elise had never before expressed her own inner turmoil.

She sighed. "As you already know, I did not speak with Jim yesterday - or his mother - other than a short greeting."

"Yes," Spock said. "Both the doctor and myself observed your absence. Is everything well with you?"

"I'm not certain how I am, Mr. Spock."

"If you need time away from -"

Elise shook her head. "No, it is not that. Captain Kirk is overwhelmed with good feelings for his mother, who is likewise overjoyed to be in the presence of her son. However, I cannot deny that I sense a feeling of anxiety radiating from her very being. As soon as I came in the same room as her, it greatly affected me, so much that could not continue to be of any use to Jim and was forced to leave. I have developed great empathetic feelings for your captain while aiding him in his recovery, and now...I am overly sensitive to the things which endanger him. I must inform you that it is disturbing."

Spock's shoulders stiffened. "The captain is in danger? The commander's visit with her son is not based purely on her affection and desire to see him?"

Elise drew a quick breath. "I cannot be certain. She is a strong woman, no doubt skilled in the sheer will with which she is suppressing her emotions. Or perhaps she has had training in this area."

"Training?" Spock repeated dimly. That sort of training pointed towards something altogether separate from Starfleet. Something greatly disconcerting.

"Yes, training, but this visit with Jim seems to be her undoing. She is not as strong as she'd like to be. She's weakening under the strain and more so under the happiness she feels. It is because of this that I suspect she is not here only for Jim's sake."

"If you sense conflicting emotions, it is imperative that we are more alert."

"I would suggest not allowing her to be alone with the captain for any length of time, but I fear it would only raise suspicion of our motives," Elise said softly. "Until I can discern the reasons behind her anxiety, yes...you must be more alert for Jim's sake. He cannot learn of her conflict nor of our own suspicion. Quite frankly, it would be too damaging and perhaps undo the progress he has made."

"This is unacceptable " Spock murmured, eyeing the closed door beside him.

"Indeed, it is, but we can only hope her inner turmoil is based on guilt for what she's done to Jim in the past or the guilt that she cannot do more to help him."

"Are you able to withstand her presence now?" Spock asked

"Yes," Elise said firmly. "I must. We must continue as normally as possible or offer a simple, reasonable answer when we can't."

They slipped into Jim's quarters quietly. Dr. McCoy was already there, giving Jim medication Dr. Sheffield had prescribed for the painful swelling. Elise took a seat at Jim's table, far enough from Jim and his mother seated on the couch but close as she claimed she would be. As Elise's warning sounded in his mind, Spock immediately became as watchful as McCoy and more diligent than ever in his observations of the dynamics between mother and son.

As much as Spock wanted to brush aside Elise's warning, the Betazoid healer was certain of the emotions she sensed from Commander Kirk - and she had not been wrong in the short time she had worked with Jim. Although Kirk exhibited the qualities of the captain he once was, mixed with the captain the Re'an had formed, logic still ruled Spock's mind. Emotion did not. It could not if he wanted to act in Jim's best interests. He would heed Elise's observation that anxiety overshadowed Jim's happiness.

"I have to return to sickbay. Will you walk with me for a moment?" McCoy said quietly to Spock as he gathered his device and bag. Spock wordlessly followed and once the door was shut behind him, Spock found himself waiting for the second time in the corridor. "I'll return with Dr. Sheffield within a few hours - he wants to spend some time with us both, discussing Jim's progress."

"There has been improvement in the short time since Jim's surgery?" Spock asked. "That is acceptable news, Dr. McCoy."

"Maybe even more than acceptable. The nerves are accepting the nutrients faster than either of us anticipated," McCoy explained. "There's more to it than that, because we're looking at longterm use of the implants and feeding his nerves these specialized nutrients. Even if Jim's sight returns, he'll be dependent upon them to maintain his sight. Sheffield wants Jim to understand it all, especially since he has the time to detail the entire process. For all the waiting Sheffield needs to do, he hasn't complained. His focus has been Jim for its entirety and there's still waiting to do."

Spock was just as impressed as McCoy by the ophthalmologist's diligence to Jim's case. "He is planning to stay to see the bandages removed?"

"Absolutely," McCoy nodded. "I'd expect less from any other surgeon, but anyone with the same caliber as Sheffield? He'll see this through. If he gets bored, I can keep him entertained enough in my sickbay."

"With the commander's arrival, Jim's plan to listen to his logs has been postponed."

"Yeah," McCoy sighed. "I know. That's the other thing that I wanted to talk to you about. He needs to get on that. With his mom here now, I imagine he forgot. It's our responsibility to make sure he progresses, Spock."

"I already intend to remind him and insist that he does so this morning," Spock said.

"He won't want to leave his mom's side," McCoy frowned. "Is there something you can do about that? I'd like to give them as much time together as possible, Spock. I believe that you know now how important this really is to Jim."

He was well aware now that he not only melded with Jim but shared a bond. Had he this knowledge from the beginning of their friendship, when they were merely acquaintances, Spock would have approached their relationship differently. But he hadn't known and there was no point dwelling on what he could no longer change.

"If Jim is amenable to his mother's presence whilst he listens to his personal logs, I would allow it," Spock said.

"Good," McCoy nodded. "May be in her best interest to listen and understand a little more, too, without depending upon Jim to explain things to her."

"She is eager to get to know her son," Spock said.

"Up until recently, of the few times I've spoken with her, I've never gotten that vibe. And now?" McCoy gave a short laugh. "You're not gonna be able to pry them apart for awhile."

"Indeed," Spock said. He stopped, hesitant to reveal Elise's concerns when the doctor before him wore a rare smile.

"Something wrong?" McCoy hesitated. "Is it Jim?"

"I am only concerned about the lack of communication Jim has had with Elise since before his surgery."

"There hasn't been any trouble, no...growing pains. But, you're right, it has been a few days since..." McCoy trailed off. "If Jim is up to it after he talks with Sheffield, I'll suggest that he have another session with Elise. Who knows what's running through that mind of his."

What McCoy should be concerned about was not Jim's thoughts but what was running through the mind of the woman professing her affection for her son, their captain. For once Spock returned to Jim's quarters, the captain was nowhere to be seen and Commander Kirk and Elise were engaged in a quiet discussion. Realizing Jim must be in his bedroom, Spock chose to sit at the table, wait, and conveniently eavesdrop. As soon as Commander Kirk realized Spock's presence, she swiftly ceased her conversation with Elise but not before her hushed words provoked a foreboding sense to come over Spock that refused to subside.

* * *

 

_Captain's Log Stardate 2260.091_

I spent several hours at the dig site today. I was so enthralled with the crude images on the additional missile piece that the team found that I almost forgot to keep my eye on Uhura. Big mistake, or would have been. I managed to distract Lequa but cornered myself into a position where I had no other course of action but to accept his invitation to an important Re'an ceremony, not with one of his sons staring up at me so eagerly. Lequa brought up the sacred room that I heard about yesterday that contains their most sacred creatures. Had he read my mind? I may get a chance to look at it later this week. Dr. Jahnas will be even more frustrated with me about grounding her when she hears about these two opportunities.

I'm not terribly certain I'll even mention it when she comes to my quarters tonight for research.

_Captain's Log Stardate 2260.092_

Business as usual today. Breakfast with Bones in the morning at mess, with double the coffee for me. I live for these days, even when things are going smoothly, and I hope that Bones knows that I'd do absolutely anything to keep our ritual. I finally got the nerve to inform Bones about how strongly the snakes affect -

_Captain's Log Stardate 2260.093_

Yesterday was the day from hell, as indicated by my short, unfinished log. Christine allotted me one minute to record my log before Bones returns to check on my wound. ( _hiss of pain_ ). Yeah, the wound that sliced me across the stomach and took hours for Bones to fix. We were contacted unexpectedly by Re'an V. What we thought...( _heavy pause_ )... to be a kidnapping was only an attempt to ensnare me, whatever for, we don't know but it does involve the snakes somehow.

( _sigh_ ). I need to tell Spock the rest that I know about Soona, now that I'm semi-coherent and off the drugs while Bones stepped out. I owe Christine, but I wanted to record these things while they were still fresh. _(sharp hiss)_. The scent of the snake drugged me somehow but luckily I had an ally. Soona saved my life and now we are going to try to save hers.

I don't know if anyone believes that it was me who knocked Man'en unconscious and not Soona who betrayed her own people. It's a bit of a stretch...( _pause_ )...seeing that I was on the ground with my stomach cut open.

( _slight hiss of pai_ n). I hope Bones...Spock can figure this out...while I'm a little out of it again. Can't even sit up yet...and now I'm out of time...too much...pain. Doubt Bones...will let me go...to the ceremony but ( _sigh_ ) I'll try to convince him otherwise.

_Captain's Log Stardate 2260.095_

Nothing new. Still in sickbay. Bones brought me breakfast in bed. I ate, he finished a cup of coffee. The treatment for this stomach wound is a bitch but I asked Bones to do as much as he could to fix it, as fast as he could. At least I can sit up today - and walk a little. I just finished telling Spock of my suspicion - the Re'an wanted me to go into that sacred room. If looks could kill...I mean glue me to my bed. But, I'm going down, no matter what. Spock couldn't find Soona yesterday or the day before that or the day before that, and I'm worried. We need to find her and attending the Re'an ceremony tomorrow is the perfect cover.

Just hope that I can focus with the damn snakes around me.

* * *

 

_Just hope that I can focus with the damn snakes around me._

The room pressed around him, as suffocating and hot as Jim's first steps were into the warp core.

"Computer, stop," Jim said with strangled breath, managing to stop the logs altogether. His face heated and his heart beating too rapidly in his chest to feel comfortable. Silence filled the room until Bones came over as Jim had predicted and shot him with a hypo. But he didn't flinch. He simply refused to react.

"That's for your focus" Bones said quietly before administering another drug in his neck. "And this one is for getting your vitals back on track."

Focus? Jim finally dropped his head in his hands. This was too ironic, too painful. It was ironic because the reason he had any focus whatsoever now was because of a snake - his snake, whose scent Jim could detect when he was outside his own quarters. It was too painful because he remembered almost nothing from those logs.

"Do you recall anything from those logs, Jim?" Spock asked.

Jim lifted his head, wishing his bandages were off so he could roll his eyes at the Vulcan. Spock knew damn well he didn't...well, nearly didn't. The question was spoken only to draw him out, get him focused in a different way - and hell. It was actually working.

"I remember..." Jim didn't even think he should even bother telling anyone what he remembered. It was hardly anything but something so insignificant it wouldn't help anyone, let alone him.

"Nothing is insignificant, Jim," Spock said softly. "One memory can provoke another. There is no limit and with Elise's help -"

"Elise?" Winona interrupted. "If she is your counselor, why isn't she here?"

"She has extended herself and must rest before she returns."

"I see," Winona murmured. "But, if she would help Jim -"

"She does," Jim said quickly. "She does help me but she hasn't rested...this situation...it has been difficult on her."

"Because of Soona," Winona said slowly.

"Yes," Jim nodded. "But...the logs..."

"You remember something?" His mother asked, hope in her voice as she squeezed his hand. He responded with a squeeze back, appreciative of her strong presence beside him. Having never had her to lean on in his childhood or his adult life up until now, this was strange to him, her being another support. Strange, but not unwelcome. Jim honestly didn't want her to leave and already extended the invitation until after his bandages were off. She agreed. That meant they had at least six more days.

"Not really," Jim finally confessed.

"Not even twisting Nurse Chapel's arm to allow for that PADD?" Bones sank to the seat beside him.

Jim rubbed his jaw. "No."

"The fight with Man'en?" Bones asked, his device scanning Jim once again.

"I'm fine, Bones," Jim murmured.

"Let me be the judge of that. This is strain, all of it, and it's pretty hefty after major surgery." Bones paused. "Allow me dote on ya, okay?"

"Sure, Bones," Jim sighed and let it be for now.

"So, do you remember Man'en attacking you?" Bones asked again.

The fight? Being sliced by Re'an warrior? Soona saving him? None of that was there. Those were gone. "No, Bones, none of that," Jim said quietly. "I remember the vines reaching for me after I was injured, the black twirling vines falling from the sky...I remember darkness."

Silence, again. He was being honest and although that must have made everyone in the room uncomfortable, it was all he remembered and damn it...hadn't they asked him? Hadn't they put him into this position?

"I'm sorry, baby," Winona murmured, stroking his arm.

"Do you think you can listen to more, Jim?" Bones asked softly.

"I, uh, I don't...I don't think I'll listen to more right now," Jim said. "In fact..."

"You need some time alone?" Bones asked.

"No, it's not that, Bones." He didn't want to be alone. He wanted them to stay and he wanted Sam out of her case so he could touch her...as ridiculous as it sounded...and for them to not be freaked out by it. "Isn't Dr. Jahnas coming to feed Sam shortly?"

"Yeah, Jim, she is," Bones said softly, his words washing over Jim like a gentle breeze. Jim breathed a sigh of relief. He knew that his best friend would understand what he needed. "Want me to see if she can come early?"

"If you don't mind." He could do this, especially if Aleyah came soon to retrieve Sam for him while he remained immobile as part of his recovery. Dependent upon a snake? He'd been in worse situations. He could do this. He could do this in the twisted state that the Re'an had left him in because this was a scenario with nothing else to lose that he hadn't lost already.

And in the end? He hadn't lost it all like he had feared. He had his friends - and now his mother.

It was all he'd ever wanted.

* * *

 

"You want to escort your mother to dinner?" McCoy's eyebrows shot up as he stared at the man leaning against the table. It was the last thing he expected to hear from Jim and simply put, he almost couldn't believe that he had even uttered the words escort and mother in the same sentence. But the more McCoy thought about it, the idea probably had a big something to do with Dr. Marcus. She was the one who helped Jim when he wore that atrocious shirt of Spock's. And didn't she tease Jim sometime later about escorting her to a table? She deserved some sort of award for instilling the very idea of high class in Jim Kirk.

"Yeah. With tablecloths, the fine china," Jim smiled. "The works."

McCoy exchanged a look with Spock. Commander Kirk had been on the Enterprise for four days visiting Jim. Three of those days Jim had been tied to the couch or his quarters in general upon recommendation by Dr. Sheffield to give Jim's eyes more time to heal. Life on a starship was unpredictable and when you were Jim Kirk, even more unpredictable. He didn't need jostled around or anything threatening his progress while he was still in the very early healing stages, but Jim was like a caged puppy, minus the barking. The logs had almost been too much, Jim was admittedly antsy...maybe it was high time for the captain to spread his wings.

"Alright," McCoy said, but before he could go further, Jim cut in with the excitement he usually expressed on Christmas morning or any other day that involved presents.

"I already talked to Uhura and Christine, so you're all going to be there, okay? And I arranged for candlelight, music... -"

"Hold on. You arranged things already?"

"Well, yeah? When you were in sickbay?" Jim bit his lip. "That was alright, wasn't it? I mean...I knew I wouldn't be stuck in my quarters forever and I want to do something with my mom while she's here other than...talk and listen to logs."

"You said candlelight?" McCoy asked in disbelief.

"Absolutely," Jim replied. "Mom will like that."

"That implies...formal. I don't have to wear a suit, do I?" McCoy asked half-jokingly.

Jim hesitated. "Well, about that...yes."

McCoy leaned forward. "Wait. What?"

"You do, Bones," Jim said. "It's the only way this whole thing will work."

McCoy groaned. "Dammit, Jim! I'm not wearing a suit!"

"It's just one night, Bones," Jim pleaded. "More like...three hours, tops. Think of it as a chance to show off your Southern charm."

"Did you have any idea he was going to make us wear a damn suit?" McCoy glanced over at Spock, who merely arched a brow. "Did you?"

"Actually, Spock is the one who had the idea in the first place," Jim said.

"I knew you had help." McCoy snorted. "And it doesn't surprise me in the least."

Jim frowned. "I'm getting the impression that I should feel wounded."

"Kid, don't worry about it," McCoy said. "Though, you are worse than me when it comes to wearing a suit."

"I suppose you think I don't have class?" Jim scoffed.

"Says the man who made his dates pay the bar tab for the first year at the Academy, _after_ you abandoned them five minutes into said date. The bar tab that included you, her, _and_ me, because you forced me to tag along, once in drag for shock value, all in the name of academia."

"That was one time, Bones, one time." Jim paused. "Besides, it was only Dr. Jahnas. I doubt she even remembers you wearing a dress and I was the one who snapped a photo, not her. And, like you said, all of it was for an ongoing study."

"You forgot Rita, Jordan, T'rana, and Gwen," McCoy listed one by one.

"So, five times," Jim huffed.

"And don't forget Lindy. Now there's a six and a half foot tall force to be reckoned with."

"Lindy?" Jim frowned.

McCoy snorted. "How the hell did you forget her? You had a black eye to prove it."

Jim's expression turned slightly panicked. "Does the fact that I sent them credits after the class was over help? That I actually sent them all credits which were triple the tab?"

"Nope," McCoy said shortly. Maybe he shouldn't be enjoying himself so much, but it was fun getting Jim riled up. Just like old times. "It does no such thing."

Jim raised his hands in surrender. "Alright. Alright. I get it. No class here, but there's a first time for everything, right?"

"Fine. But just because it was Spock's idea. I'll show up, just not in a suit," McCoy drawled.

"One night, Bones. That's all I'm asking. One night."

"You owe me, kid," McCoy gruffed.

"Add it to the list, Bones," Jim said with a wave of his hand.

"What is this list you speak of?" Spock finally spoke up.

"It's a list of everything I've done that I need to make up to Bones for," Jim mumbled.

"Bet that list is getting rather long," McCoy said, lips quirked into a smile. "You've had it since...well...I can't seem to remember. Forever."

"Could be long," Jim retorted. McCoy couldn't see behind the bandages but he was certain Jim looked indignant. It was a pleasant change from the pure, unselfish man he'd become - and McCoy decided he wanted to see more. "But maybe it isn't."

"If you would like to have the the opinion of an impartial third party, Jim, may I offer my services to look over your list and discern if it is overly extended as Leonard suggests," Spock said. McCoy slowly smiled. He couldn't have planned the commander's comment if he'd tried.

Jim groaned and leaned his head against the back of the couch.

"Sounds like a good idea, but...it's metaphorical, Spock. You can't see it," McCoy paused for affect, then added, "Although, it would be nice if you would type it up, Jim, just for Spock, but only after you add the suit."

Jim groaned again. "Why is it whenever both of you are around and one of you starts picking on me, the other one is soon to follow."

"Whatever do you mean?" McCoy asked, holding back laughter.

"Indeed, Jim, I fail to comprehend the logic of your observation," Spock said.

"Could you two just stop?" Jim asked in exasperation.

"Sure thing, kid," McCoy said, "Back to the list. Since Spock offered to give his input..."

"For the millionth time, I'm not a kid, Bones, and I'll put it right after Sam. But, I'm not letting anyone see the damn list _that's_ _invisible_ because it's in my head. I repeat. It's _invisible_." Jim stood to his feet, the sigh which followed everything McCoy imagined a long-suffering, resigned sigh could be. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to make sure things will be ready for tonight."

"Maybe put the thing about the suit before Sam," McCoy tossed out casually, just to see Jim squirm more. "I think I want compensation for that much sooner than later. The snake thing could take awhile, kid."

A smug smile formed on McCoy's face. The cursing that trailed Jim as he practically stalked to his quarters was worth every word.

* * *

 

As the lights dimmed and the music swelled to fill the room, Jim escorted Nyota onto the dance floor, McCoy and Christine following suit. Dinner had ended twelve point two minutes earlier, and Nurse Chapel was the first to initiate that they take advantage of the music and dance. Once Jim's slow dance steps occupied the watchful eyes of the doctor, Spock turned to the figure seated across from him. Jim's mother appeared regal, relaxed in her environment as if she belonged. Indeed, it was Jim's compassion for his mother which affected her poise and the merit of being on a starship. It was also the kindness her son bestowed to her and the act of preparing such a special memory for them both.

But Spock was eager to speak his mind before the two couples on the floor returned. Now alone with the woman who seemed altogether too poised, it was the perfect time to begin his interrogation. After allowing two additional days to pass before he questioned her, using that time to observe her and come to his own conclusion, Spock was certain she would do all she could to keep her composure in front of the others and not call attention to herself. He was also certain she would not rush from the room when cornered and make a scene because her ability to remain calm and present were both key in developing a healthy relationship with Jim.

"You do not wish to dance with your son?" Spock asked.

"I have two left feet," Commander Kirk smiled. "Unlike Jim. I see McCoy is anxious for my son, as usual, but Jim can hold his own, even on the dance floor."

"He is enjoying himself," Spock murmured, satisfied that Jim as well as the other three who were dancing were fully immersed in the moment and not on the two of them left behind to converse at the table.

"It's good to see him so happy," Commander Kirk said, sipping from her glass.

"Your visit has lifted his spirits tremendously," Spock said.

The commander nodded, sadness creeping into her eyes. "I should have come sooner."

"Would it have been more profitable for your ulterior motive, indeed, you should have."

The commander's eyelashes fluttered briefly as she peered at him. "Mr. Spock? I don't understand."

"You have another reason for this visit, commander, one which remains hidden from us," Spock said evenly. "Just as the Re'an had ulterior motives for inviting the captain to their banquets."

Commander Kirk's knuckles whitened as she clenched her goblet, the only visible sign that Spock had struck a nerve. "You are comparing me to those who destroyed my son?"

"I am merely curious to hear the true explanation behind your visit." Spock said, brow quirked.

Commander Kirk shook her head, averting her eyes to stare at the two couples engaged in their dance. "I'm here to see my son, who welcomed me on his ship and in his life for the first time, Mr. Spock. I have no other reason for being here."

"I am aware that you questioned Elise about the Re'an," Spock said evenly.

Commander Kirk spared a glance at him and sighed. "Yes, Elise. I did speak with her. I only wanted to know more of the species who did this to my son. Being that she interacted with them twenty years ago but now is assisting Jim in his recovery, she was able to answer my questions. I hope that it will help me understand Jim more when we talk."

Despite the honesty behind her reply, Spock changed nothing about his approach. His anger had festered throughout the past three days, growing exponentially until he came to a decision, this decision that would undoubtedly save his captain and friend from experiencing an emotional wound having the gross potential to destroy him. Jim had forgiven his mother for what she'd done to him in the past, but Spock could not bestow the same courtesy for what she did to Jim now.

Spock's anger blazed like a rampant, uncontrollable fire in his heart, drawing from the embers left there by the Re'an, the ones who had most irrevocably harmed his captain. He shifted his gaze back to the commander and narrowed his eyes as more became clearer to him. It would be useless to hope that he was wrong in his judgement of Jim's mother, but the human part of him maintained a small piece of that illogical hope for Jim's sake.

"And these questions, they must include inquiries about the Re'an's use of dilithium crystals?"

The woman winced. "It's not what you think, Mr. Spock. I'm aware that this looks horrid to you, but I'm telling you the truth - "

"Enough!" Spock hissed as he brought his fisted hand down on the table, barely withholding his anger but causing the table to vibrate.

Indeed, if she had spoken again before he was ready to listen to her fallible, weak excuses, his rage would be known by all. But the target of his rage was stunned into silence. She widened her eyes, her face losing a subtle layer of color.

"The truth is obvious, commander, because facts do not lie," Spock said, filling his words with the iciness that anyone who had betrayed his friend and captain deserved. Wanting to disarm her more and strip her of everything she held dear, he all but snarled his next words. "People lie, and before your son, who is oblivious to your actions, returns to this table, I demand that you tell me the reason behind your deception. If you do not, I will no longer wait to hear your pathetic excuses but will immediately inform Jim of your deception. Make no mistake, commander. The love that your son holds in his heart for you will vanish as quickly as your loyalty."


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, many, many things will come full circle in this update! Also, the last scene is actually several POV's and I separate those with x's to make those clear. :-) Also, I'm on [tumblr](http:/www.restfulsky5.tumblr.com) now! Feel free to look me up! 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!

Twelve seconds had never ticked by so slowly. Spock's fury threatened to break the surface, hitting him at its peak when Winona Kirk began to talk.

"You know nothing," she said, her murmur well below any audible whisper. He applauded her ability to hide the volatile emotions which brimmed at the surface.

"You were not on your guard when you spoke with Elise in Jim's quarters."

Winona's eyes bored into his. "I regret my mistake, but I do have my orders, Mr. Spock, and those orders are not to reveal my purpose for this visit."

"It is too late. You must, or I will call Jim over to this table immediately."

"You wouldn't dare," she lifted a brow in contest.

"Vulcans do not lie," he said heatedly, clenching his fist as it rested on the cool table. "It is not an empty threat."

"I am not naive, Mr. Spock," she replied just as hotly, her color returning to her face. "I have seen Jim's struggles. He has come a long way but it is far from over. This - these questions I'm asking behind his back - would literally destroy him. Are you sure you want that to happen?"

"Yet you came knowing it was a possibility," Spock said through clenched teeth. "It is unacceptable, yet you continue to stall. I will not allow you to remain on this ship, and if you are so intent on using your son to gain intelligence..."

Spock allowed his words to fade. Much was speculation and based upon her secrecy, but he believed her to be involved with something dangerous, perhaps a black operation. Otherwise, this request concerning the Re'an's use of dilithium would have come straight from Admiral Archer himself. First, however, he wished for her to admit on her own that she could not leave the ship without gaining more intelligence, therefore necessitating her cooperation with him.

Winona winced with a subtle shake of her head. "If I leave without the answers they seek or at least a reasonable excuse for why I came back empty handed, they will find another way to get what they want from Jim...a more...forceful way. And if they don't get what they want then..."

"They would kill him?" Spock forced the question from his lips, the captain's safety overshadowing any desire to know who 'they' were or what dilithium had to do with their agenda.

"Do you really think that I would take a chance like that? And wait to see what they do to my son?" She peered at him from under her lashes, delicately swishing the wine in her glass. "I am under the impression that they've heard every comm I've had with Jim, since it is obvious they know of Jim's experience with the Re'an. I also suspect that they got their hands on Archer's conversations with you and Dr. McCoy, that it was how they knew about the Re'an mission in the first place. I just didn't expect them to... " She sighed, cursing under her breath. "...they gave me the new orders after I talked to him this last time, when I learned more of what Jim endured at the hands of the Re'an. After the Marcus fiasco, things have been rather quiet and I haven't been in the field as much. None of us have. I thought I could begin to repair my relationship with him without my work threatening his safety."

"Again, I insist that you tell me everything," Spock said in a cool, detached voice. "It is the only way that I will allow you to remain on board this ship, pretending to care for your son."

"I do care for him, Mr. Spock. Very much so," she said, her voice throaty. "It is why I have stayed away until now."

For that reason alone, Spock was inclined to believe in her affection. "Explain," he commanded.

"Jim told me about Dr. Jahnas."

Spock's stomach clenched. "What does Dr. Jahnas have to do with your orders or the fact that you have maintained your distance from Jim for much of his life?"

"She is Orion and one among many who were used most grievously."

"You speak of the slave trade," Spock said.

"Yes," she nodded. "In regards to the Re'an, the slave trade was very much alive."

"How can you be certain?"

"Jim told me about the false memories the Re'an forced into his mind, Aleyah's death included." Winona tapped her fingers against the stem of her glass. "It was not the first time that the Re'an would have had an Orion woman at their disposal. Scientists have already proven that the Re'an were not affected at all by their pheromones, thus pointing to an entirely different use for these women."

"Are you inferring that the Re'an used slaves as their resources for memories?" This conclusion did not come to a complete shock to Spock. Indeed, he realized he should have calculated such a possibility earlier. Slaves had the memories that the Re'an beings needed to ensure their survival, and as they came to them bound, hands and feet shackled, it would have been an efficient extraction.

"Yes, they were used among many others," Winona breathed. "Although, for a long time we didn't even have a clue as to why the Re'an wanted slaves...until after the Re'an had completely disappeared. Even then it was all speculation, for the Re'an were a peaceful species."

"And yet they traded their dilithium crystals for slaves," Spock said slowly.

"Yes, but we believe they could do so only while their dilithium resources were plentiful and available to them in excess," Winona murmured, taking another sip of wine. "Or, perhaps, they merely became stingy and preferred the ability to disappear from the Federation over keeping their species out of extinction."

"The latter was more important to them for the past two decades, a most unfortunate decision and one that resulted in their demise." Spock suppressed his desire to fidget in his seat, dissatisfied still with the information she'd given him. There had to be more. "Do you have proof to back up your accusation?"

"We..." She began.

"We?" Spock quirked a brow, reaching for more. "This intelligence is within Starfleet?"

"You are pushing for far more than I can give, Mr. Spock."

"May I remind you that we do not have time to waste?" Spock suppressed a wave of anger at her unwillingness to reveal the truth. "If you wish for Jim to remain clueless..."

Winona's voice turned steely. "I cannot say, Mr. Spock. Only that there had been rumors but never enough hard evidence or any promise of evidence...until my superiors heard about Jim. However, we did get our hands on blurred footage of a Re'an ship and possible Orion ship meeting two decades ago, mere days before someone, possibly a young Re'an female, tipped a family and told them that the Re'an were dangerous."

"Soona," Spock said quietly.

"I think it was Soona, yes," Commander Kirk said, smoothing her blonde hair behind her ears. "Especially since Jim explained that she had tried to help others before, when she was only a child."

"But why would the Re'an force Jim to remember Dr. Jahnas' supposed death by the snakes? The logical course of action would be to create a manifestation showing Dr. Jahnas alive but used as a resource." Spock said. "Why go to such measures?"

She stared hard at him. "Since talking to Jim, I've come to a conclusion. I think Jim knows something, something the Re'an didn't want him to remember about the relationship they had with the slave traders and in regards to their dilithium crystals. I believe they created the manifestation in Jim's mind purposefully, to sidetrack him. It makes sense that they confused him this way. Instead of Aleyah's memories being used, the Orion woman perished at the hand of hungry creatures to evoke great misery in Jim, a heartache and regret to overwhelm any other emotion or thought. I know Jim cares about Aleyah - and the Re'an were also aware of this. They played him quite well."

"If you were to have approached Jim about this in the beginning instead of secretly -"

"You damn well know I can't speak a word of this to him. It's why you cornered me here in the first place, isn't it?" Winona whispered, glaring at him. "I don't work for you or Archer or..."

She clamped her mouth shut, eyes still tense as she gazed out at the floor. Spock followed suit, too stunned to speak. He watched his friends, who were oblivious, unassuming...happy, even when McCoy misstepped. Nyota teased the good doctor for his slight stumble, the words bringing a wide grin to Jim's face. He laughed in good nature and stopped dancing to clap a scowling McCoy on the shoulder.

"Starfleet," Spock finally said, the words bitter as they left his mouth. "You are working against Starfleet. The dilithium crystals your superiors wish to find are not for the benefit of the Federation."

"A check of powers, so to speak." She looked sharply at him as the couples dancing engaged in more laughter. "And we must find them before anyone else does."

"Why?"

"You know I can't tell you specifics," she said, lips curling into a sneer. "Now do you understand? It is why I can't pull Jim into this anymore than I have to."

"It is too late," Spock said coldly, steeling himself against the bitter truth that he had a decision to make and, ultimately, it was left to him whether or not Jim would learn about his mother's treachery. Her explanation left him unsettled. Was her intent to help by playing this balance of powers? Or to lead resources away from Starfleet and into enemy hands? One fact was clear, despite her deceptive actions aboard the Enterprise, her timely intervention delayed her superiors' interrogation of Jim - and may have prevented Jim from great harm. "Your relationship with Jim must continue or it would look suspicious to both your superiors and to Jim."

Winona looked away, her stony expression marred only by the subtle creases along her brow.

"To prevent further suspicion, you must remain on the Enterprise until one day after Jim's bandages are removed," Spock continued.

Winona inhaled sharply. "If he can see, he may sense something is wrong."

Spock's rage stirred. Despite her professed 'love' for Jim, did she place herself above her son, forgetting that her son's fiercest desire was to regain his command? That he required his sight for this to occur? "It is unlikely that his eyes would have healed so soon. However, your own resolve has weakened and your feelings are coming to the surface. Elise sensed your conflicted emotions almost immediately."

Winona's eyes filled with resignation. "I tried to keep my feelings at bay, but Jim...well, we're at a place we've never been before. I feel things. Things that are new, because of all he's been through, and I cannot stop them when I am around him."

"Of what _things_ do you speak?" Spock asked.

"Guilt," she said quietly, look down at the floor. "And because of my feelings, there is a chance that if he observes me..." Winona's voice faded to nothing.

"He will know you are lying to him?" Spock interrupted, his demeanor turning to steel. "That his own mother has manipulated his love for her in order to uncover information for an organization seemingly working against Starfleet? That you are essentially a traitor?"

"Traitor is a strong word."

Indeed, it was, but it was the only word he saw fit to describe her until he considered these facts in earnest.

"As is the word 'love,' Spock replied. "Which you have given so freely to your son."

"Touché, Captain Spock." Winona laughed harshly, reacting much like the woman cornered she was. "But, yes, you are correct in thinking that Jim will suspect I am hiding something from him. But you want that to happen, don't you, Mr. Spock?"

"I want to spare Jim pain and that is why I, as Acting Captain of this vessel, will no longer allot you time alone with your son. Indeed, you will be guarded by security at all times except for when you are in my presence. While I come to a conclusion of how we must proceed, you will not speak a word of your deception to anyone nor will you attempt to obtain intel. I will inform you of my decision the morning you intend to leave the Enterprise."

Winona's gaze settled across the room, on Jim, her expression a disjointed reflection of her guilt, love, and treachery. "I'm sorry. So sorry. I regret ever baring my heart to Jim."

"An apology is illogical as it will never suffice, Commander," Spock said. "And it is too late to offer one. The second you selfishly decided to love your son, you endangered him. You endangered us all."

* * *

 

The day had come. It was time to remove the bandages and begin a new part of his journey. Jim stood outside Sheffield's room in sickbay, wondering if he was going to hurl right there in front of his own mother or on the doctor's shoes in the room. He hadn't been nervous like this in a long time. It was a little humbling.

"Baby, I'll be waiting," his mother whispered and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Jim found her arm, his hands fumbling only a little before he gave her a gentle squeeze. He breathed out slowly through his nose, wishing she could stay while the bandages were removed. He felt like he was four and waiting for permission to eat dessert or play a game or... "Maybe you can wait...with me."

"I know you want me to stay, Jimmy, but...they think it's best you do this on your own. I think so, too."

He licked his lips, nervously swallowing, almost begging her to stay with him. He didn't quite know what to do with himself. "You're leaving tomorrow," he said instead. Jim's heart already felt the loss. It was a little earlier than expected.

"I know," she murmured, kissing him on the other cheek. "I know, but we can still talk. This is you getting your life back, Jim. You'll always have me, no matter what, but your focus needs to be here. It needs to be on this and everything that will fall into place after your sight returns."

"If it does," he whispered.

"It will," his mother said, voice filled with warmth. "Now...go. You're going to make me cry...again."

Jim gave a half laugh, pretty sure his mother had never cried so much in her entire life until the past week. "You'll wait?"

"Yes," she said. "As promised."

Jim nodded and following his mother's lead, dropped his hand from her arm and allowed Bones to take him to the room where Sheffield and his staff waited.

"Are you sure you don't want Spock here?" Bones asked quietly in his ear.

Jim shrugged. Who knew why, but he wanted his mother, and not Spock. It didn't make much sense to him, except, he knew he'd be dealing with copious amounts of disappointment and if he had to sense Spock's as well, it would be too much. It wasn't that he liked his mother more. Quite the opposite. Spock was family. He was his other best friend. He was...well, the fact was that his relationship with Spock was complicated and finally, Jim was learning, just as dependent upon Jim doing for Spock as Spock had done for him in the past.

"I must remind you, captain, that results are not immediate," Sheffield said after Jim sat down. Bones' hand rested on his shoulder, his scent of mint and a hint of the bourbon they both drank last night bringing a sense of calm to his mind.

"I'll still be blind," Jim said in a quiet voice.

"Yes," Sheffield agreed. "As you already know, the technology has begun to feed nutrients to your optical nerves. We've also repaired damaged tissue surrounding your eyes, more than what we originally thought we could repair. I am hopeful, Captain Kirk, that we will see a change in a few short months."

Jim forced nausea down with sheer will as his nerves nearly got the best of him. He was glad Sheffield was hopeful because he wasn't sure exactly what he should feel, himself. For Bones and Spock, he'd tried to be greatly optimistic for the entire seven days he'd been blindfolded. However, the truth was that he assumed he'd eventually become a blind teacher at the Academy within the year. If Bones would let him that is. Jim sighed. And if Spock would let him off the Enterprise. He wavered between staying and going, leaving to allow his friends the luxury of not caring for him or staying, knowing that they'd worry for his safety on every single mission of which he was permitted to participate.

"I believe that your sight has a better chance to return than other cases, given the nature of the injury," Sheffield continued. "However, as we wait, it's natural to feel disappointed, even distraught and anxious."

Jim gritted his teeth. He was already feeling that anxiety, most of it managed by Spock through their bond although he'd told his friend it wasn't necessary. He didn't want to depend upon Spock like a...like a crutch...not if he wanted to get to the command chair.

"Jim?" McCoy asked. "We can do a few other things to put you at ease, if you want."

"No, I'm fine, Bones." When silence ensued, Jim could hear McCoy thinking _bullshit_. Jim would be rolling his eyes at his mother hen if he could. "Unless you still give full body massages?Learned any good impersonations of Spock while I was out of it? Better yet, maybe - "

"Pardon the captain, Dr. Sheffield," Bones interrupted. "But this is what happens when Jim doesn't want to admit he's nervous. He's a smart-ass."

"What?" Jim protested. "I'm serious. If you could do those things, Bones, I would guarantee that I'd feel better."

"Heaven help me," Bones muttered.

"But I'm being serious," Jim said, affronted.

Bones sighed. "I know ya are and that's what scares me. Dr. Sheffield, seeing that Jim went this far, the smart-ass remarks probably did him some good."

"Alright, I think we're ready, then," Sheffield said with a laugh. "After we unwrap your bandages, there may still be some residual swelling and burning for a day or two."

"Itching?" Jim asked, dreading the answer.

"That part's behind you," Sheffield replied, humor in his voice. Jim exhaled in relief. "Are you ready?"

Jim didn't mean to hesitate, but he did.

"Jim," Bones warned.

"I'm fine."

"Here," Bones said softly, pressing something into his hands. Jim ran his fingers around the hard edges of the small item, frowning as he examined it. "Now you're fine."

It was the chess piece.

"Spock saw that you left it out on your table," Bones said. "Gave it to me right before I came in."

Jim pressed his index finger into an edge of the knight, smiling to himself. With a deep breath, he gathered his courage. "Dr. Sheffield, I believe I am ready now."

"Good," the doctor said. "Let's get started."

* * *

 

"Chris," McCoy said quietly, one eye on Jim and the other on the nurse at his side.

"Already got it," Christine replied.

"You're no mind reader. You can't possibly know what I was going to say."

Chris arched a brow and deliberately turned her head to glance over at Jim on the opposite side of the room. Ten minutes after the bandages were removed, the captain had finally been allowed to carefully examine his own eyes. More specifically, the tiny implants that were sure to feel like mammoth-sized additions to his face, not to mention the scarring. Jim was still as blind as a bat, as Sheffield had cautioned them all that Jim would be, and his sense of touch was more or less magnified because of his lack of sight. As he watched Jim's fingers gently graze the changes on his face, McCoy was was certain that his best friend was deeply conflicted.

"He's going to need a few days to get used to them," McCoy murmured.

"And that's why the sedative is in the bag for when you take him back to his quarters," Christine replied. "You know as well as I do that he won't sleep without it."

"His mind will be going at warp speed."

"So, you just have to keep him busy," Christine said quickly. "It won't be difficult with his mother still here and the crew biting at the bit to speak with him. I imagine the captain needs to be immersed in ship life, even more now that the bandages are off."

"Wish I could convince him to let me run the dermal regenerator," McCoy said quietly.

"Why can't you convince him?" Christine asked.

It was an innocent enough question but McCoy had only a loaded reply for her. "The Re'an."

Christine's brow creased. "So, by that you mean that his Re'an side is at the forefront right now and he won't accept the treatment because he's coming to grips with these particular changes first. And it may be awhile before he ever agrees to the treatment."

"Right."

"At least you know he's not being stubborn about it on purpose," Christine said softly. "This is Jim now, Len."

"I know." McCoy's hand gripped the medic bag. He should get Jim up to his quarters before Spock's shift ended.

"I know you know that," Christine took a deep breath, "but sometimes...sometimes you get ahead of yourself...and that means that you get ahead Jim."

McCoy scratched the back of his neck, slightly ashamed that she was completely right to call him on it. "I only wanted to get rid of the scarring so when the time comes and he can see, he's not completely put off by the face that is staring back at him."

"He's different but I don't think it'll hit him that badly," Christine mused.

"Maybe, maybe not," McCoy said slowly.

"I don't think anyone else will bat an eye, either. We all just want him back," Christine continued. "Besides, he's..."

"He's what?" McCoy frowned, glancing over to where Sheffield spoke with Jim.

"He looks very much like a captain you don't want to cross, which may help in the long run to offset this slightly different personality of his."

McCoy forced himself not to look at Jim again and shrugged the strap of the bag over his shoulder. "He's darker, I'll give him that. Like a pirate."

Christine smiled. "You're worrying too much, Len. Give our Captain Pirate a few days. He may change his mind as long as you don't hound him."

McCoy wanted to smile at the moniker _Captain Pirate_ , but disappointed with his own over-reactive tendencies, he settled for a scowl. "I'm not hounding him."

"Not yet you're not," she replied. "But he'll hear something in your voice if for some reason you can't let this go. He'll be fine, either way, Len."

"I'll be patient," McCoy said after a moment's pause. He'd try, at least.

"Good. I knew you'd see things my way," Christine said cheekily and turned away, taking one step. Then she pivoted on her heel and gave him the no-nonsense stare that sometimes made McCoy shake in his boots.

"What now, Nurse Chapel," McCoy growled.

"He misses your grumpy jokes." Christine pulled him by the arm, further away from Jim and Dr. Sheffield.

"Grumpy jokes?" McCoy stopped her, immediately confused. "I don't make grumpy jokes. I make jokes. Plain and simple, just like anyone else."

Christine huffed. "Listen, Leonard. He's feeling badly that you no longer joke with him like you used to. And they are grumpy. Used to be, anyway."

"But...we joke. All the time, actually." McCoy defended himself. "In fact, we have jokes coming out our ears."

"He told me that he could count on his one hand how often you made grumpy jokes, and that was in the passing of weeks, Len."

McCoy frowned. "If he feels this badly about it, why doesn't he -"

"Come to you?" Christine's shoulders sank. "Really, Len. You know he won't."

"He came to you," McCoy said.

"I'm his nurse. I check on him, I check on him a lot."

"And I don't?" McCoy said indignantly.

"I swear, sometimes I think you're walking on eggshells around him. And now Jim is as bad as you," Christine said in exasperation. "Why haven't you talked about things, Len? Like...really talk."

"Was hoping I wouldn't have to, and now with his mother here..." McCoy sighed. "She's leaving tomorrow. Maybe when she's gone. I didn't want to take time away from them."

"Do you really think Jim would think that way?" Christine asked.

"I don't know what he thinks anymore." His bitterness laced every word.

"He thinks you're his best friend," Christine said simply.

McCoy swallowed. "I am."

"Then act like it."

As the confident, too-smart-for-her-own-good nurse walked away, McCoy was left with the impression that he had failed miserably.

She wanted him to tell Jim the truth, but it was truth that Jim had probably figured out on his own. He did stuff like that. Figure out McCoy before McCoy figured it out himself. Jim was smart like that, _still_ smart like that.

But, maybe it was the best thing to do to come clean with Jim. It may be the only way that the weight would come off his chest, and it may be the only way he'd be able to function like he used to around Jim. He'd tried, all on his own, but the thing was, if Jim noticed McCoy's behavior, the behavior he thought he'd changed...he was doing a damn poor job of it.

"Dr. McCoy?" Sheffield approached him.

"Yes," McCoy said, clearing his throat.

"Captain Kirk is feeling...Honestly, I'm not sure how to describe it."

"He's out of sorts," McCoy said quietly. "I expected that."

The other doctor nodded. "I suggest getting his mind off things while his eyes heal, maybe offering some entertainment that my other blind patients enjoy."

"You have a more specific suggestion?"

"Theater," Sheffield said, smiling. "Something with the arts. I imagine you have many talented crew members that could participate. Also, with his mother still aboard the Enterprise, it would be something else that they could enjoy together."

"Theater," McCoy repeated. Hell, it wasn't what he would choose to do for Jim, but this Jim just might enjoy that. Jim couldn't see, but he could damn well hear - and McCoy knew one particular hobgoblin who played the Vulcan lute.

"I highly recommend it," Sheffield rubbed his jaw. "Your captain is an intelligent man but he is thinking too hard about his condition. It will be a change of pace. He needs that more than ever right now."

They all needed a change of pace. "Dr. Sheffield, you're right. That just might work."

"Trust me," Sheffield smiled. "It will."

* * *

 

Spock did not intend to speak with Commander Kirk longer than necessary after the theatrical event the crew had successfully organized and performed for their captain. He felt some unease keeping her treachery from Dr. McCoy, but having calculated a strong and perhaps unprecedented response from Leonard that Jim himself may sense, he decided that, for the time being, this was his burden to bear alone.

"Whatever you've decided, Mr. Spock, thank you for the efforts that you and Jim's crew have taken to provide my son moments of laughter and happiness," Winona said within her quarters, holding her head high. Jim had escorted her here five minutes prior, oblivious to the security officers and Spock trailing them. "The program took Jim's mind off of his blindness."

She spoke without inflection in her voice, a stark contrast to her emotion while she was in Jim's presence. Indeed, her son's love affected her most peculiarly. Spock strongly believed the love she professed for Jim was sound and had even influenced her to keep to the measures Spock had demanded.

"Jim's crew is loyal, Mrs. Kirk."

Her nose flared slightly at his implication. Although Spock did not believe her to be a physical threat, the two security officers behind him would remain once the doors to her quarters closed. He would not take any chances but he could not place her in the brig in fear that Jim would learn of it.

"I know that you think- "

"I believe the situation to be precarious and you must speak of it with Jim."

She cursed under her breath.

"Or, I shall do so in your presence."

"Is that your decision then, Mr. Spock?" She said, words stiff.

"It is my decision at this present time," Spock said. Indeed, he had altered between revealing to Jim the entirety of his mother's deception and indefinitely keeping it a secret in an effort to ease Jim's pain while blind. "However, come morning, I will have made my final choice in the matter."

"Please, I don't want to be the one to have to tell him," she said quietly.

"Than I shall do so in your presence tomorrow, but would it not be better for the truth to come from your own lips?"

"Better?" She gave a short laugh.

"I will not relent, commander," Spock stated. "And tomorrow I will insist that you reveal what you have not yet divulged."

"I have told you everything that I can," she said in a hushed voice.

"That, Commander Kirk, is still to be determined."

* * *

 

"I've never been prouder of my crew," Jim exclaimed as Nyota ushered him into her quarters. "I mean...who knew? I didn't."

The show that they had put on for their captain was over, and by the way that the captain rubbed his eyes, being cautious of the implants and surrounding scarring, the event may have taxed the captain. Nyota peered at him carefully. There were the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes. He was clearly fatigued. But, like usual, Jim defied his body. He was determined to accompany his mother to her guest quarters and then Nyota to hers before heading for his own. The evening had been long - even the captain fell asleep during the show for a few minutes. She'd shared a smile with his mother over Jim's head, which rested on the doctor's shoulder, but now, Jim continued to chatter. At least his crew had put on a damn good program, redirecting their captain's attentions elsewhere as the doctor had suggested.

Jim laughed. "They're a talented bunch. First, Scotty. I mean...hell...who knew he could impersonate Spock so well. I've been waiting for years for someone to do that. Wish I could've seen it, though. And Spock...master of the Vulcan lute?"

Uhura held back laughter at the memory of Mr. Scott and tucked her hand around Jim's bicep, urging him towards a chair.

"Didn't anyone ever tell him that a standing ovation meant he could play just one more song?" Jim said. "Not that I minded, or anyone else for that matter, the fact that he played for an extra thirty minutes! I really enjoyed it. It was soothing. I almost fell asleep. Actually, maybe I did. He's really good, Ny."

"I haven't heard him play in awhile," she admitted before she could help herself.

"Because of...me, right," Jim asked, straightening his shoulders. He pulled his chin up, his eyes narrowed as he tried to find her face in his world of gray.

"Because of a lot of things, Jim," she said quietly.

His eyes flitted to the floor as his hand clenched the top of his cane. "When do you think he's coming back?"

She almost rolled her eyes, not understanding why he didn't just use their bond and ask Spock himself. "I know he was speaking with your mother and then-"

"My mom?" Jim lifted his head, frowning.

"He'll be here soon. He told me that he wanted to speak with you before you retire to your quarters," Nyota hesitated. "You aren't going to run off, are you?"

"Maybe," Jim mumbled, eyes downward once more at his shuffling feet. He tapped his cane once on the floor.

"You just got here," she said, wanting to shake him out of his melancholy or whatever it was that was eating at him. She practically forced him into the chair. "Would you like something to drink?"

"I still can't see," Jim said.

Nyota took a deep breath. "He knows," she said softly. "It was expected. You need more time."

"And I have this scarring around my eyes. I don't want Spock to see me up close yet."

Nyota sighed, wondering if she should tell him that Spock already had seen, when he was coming down the aisle to play the lute. She knelt comfortably on her knees before his chair and grasped his hand, determined to draw him out of his shell. "Is that why you wanted to come to Spock's quarters? It makes sense," she teased him. "Considering that he does sleep here, you know. I'm sure you won't run into him."

Jim chuckled, shaking his head. "I...well...yeah I guess it doesn't make much sense."

"Not really." Nyota smiled. "But there's a lot on your mind. The scarring...it really bothers you that much?"

"No...I mean I guess not. It's there...and because it's there, I can't seem to make myself agree to the treatment to heal the scar tissue." Jim's brow creased. "I guess that's because...

_He is Re'an._

"You have a lot on your mind," Nyota repeated.

"It's no excuse. I don't think I make much sense these days," Jim mumbled.

"And that's okay. You're still finding yourself," she said.

Jim pulled something from his pocket. "Here." Jim took a breath and held out the familiar chess piece.

"That's yours," she gently reminded him.

"I know, but..." Jim huffed, still holding the knight in the palm of his hand. "Just take it. I want Spock to have it...to tell him..."

"Go on," she urged, taking the knight from his hand.

"If he still wants...I'll play that game of chess with him in the morning. Before my mom leaves. It'd have to be early. I want to spend time with her before she goes. Bones will be there, with breakfast."

"Okay," Nyota breathed out, hiding whatever excitement she could. Spock had felt disheartened by Jim's original reaction about playing chess with him and this was just what he needed to lift his spirits. "I'll tell him."

"He can comm me later," Jim said. He shifted in his chair, mouth drawn tight. "Bones will be over shortly to see if I'm alright."

"Okay," she said. "If that's what you want."

He nodded and pulled himself up slowly, and as if he was in no hurry to leave, held his cane loosely in his hand.

"Stay," she said. "He is coming,"

"I shouldn't. It's late. Winona leaves tomorrow." Jim shrugged. "I appreciate it, though, and maybe after my mom leaves and if you have some time away from the bridge...we can..."

"Go to lunch?" She offered.

"Or, find Scotty and see if he does any grumpy doctor impersonations," Jim flashed a grin, surprising her with its beaming quality.

"Now that would be entertaining."

"Just don't tell Bones," he leaned forward, whispering. "I'm already in a lot of trouble with him because of Sam."

"Wouldn't dream of it," she laughed.

Jim nodded with a smile. He left and as Nyota expected, Spock came through the door less than five minutes later.

"He did not stay." Spock said, his disappointment bleeding through. She didn't say a word. What could she say that would even begin to help? Something bothered Spock. Nyota didn't know what it was. She didn't ask, but the despair she sensed from Spock put her into tears the first morning she realized something was wrong.

"He's tired," she said honestly.

"It was challenging for him."

"But he enjoyed himself."

Spock glanced past Nyota to their table. Seeing what she set in the center of the otherwise empty chess board, he strode over to the table and picked up the knight, turning it over in his hands. "This is not mine. My chess set is already complete."

"No, it is not yours," she said slowly.

"It is Jim's."

"Yes."

"Why did he leave it?" Spock turned to her. "I do not understand."

"You don't?" She asked, head cocked. "It seems simple. It's...a note."

"He gave me a chess piece. It belongs to him." Spock's mouth turned down into an almost imperceptible frown. "He wants me to know that...he is ready to engage in a chess game. I am to bring it to his quarters."

"In the morning, before his mother leaves." Nyota said. She held back. Spock's emotions were tightly strung, which had occurred the last time he'd spoken with Winona Kirk.

"I see," Spock said quietly. "I will meet him in his quarters. I..."

"What is it?" She walked towards him, wanting to bottle his hurt for him.

"I cannot speak of it. I must meditate."

"I know," she murmured, stroking his arm. "I know."

Spock wordlessly entered his bedroom, the door sliding shut behind him.

Nyota sighed. Spock needed space, and she wasn't averse to sleeping on the couch if it meant he could get whatever it was that he needed to straightened in his head. She took off her boots and settled on the small couch, leaving the blanket in their warm quarters untouched. As the lights dimmed, she stared at the chess board, stagnant and empty on the table. Once upon a time, it had been the place where two friends connected on a level she respected but never quite understood. Once, two friends shared a camaraderie that was a foundation for the stability of the crew. They still did, but it would never be like it once was. It was different, maybe even better in some ways. Except...

Nyota closed her eyes, affected by Spock's mood more than she'd first thought.

"Forgive me, Nyota."

She opened her eyes at his whisper, heartbeat drumming slower. He looked down at her and she looked up at him, no other word needed to be spoken. But she couldn't help herself.

"It's Jim, isn't it?"

"I cannot speak of it." He sat beside her, as she curled onto her side.

"I know, but if it is the captain and you are this concerned, then...he will be okay."

"You speak logically, Nyota."

"I'm right," she said, gathering the hair off her neck. She peered up at him. "Now go meditate. I'll be fine and Jim...he will be too."

"I do not know what will transpire tomorrow after I have reached my decision."

"You have a decision to make by tomorrow?"

"I had already made my decision but Jim's request has altered it," Spock said.

"Okay, so you'll play chess with Jim," she reminded him softly. "Whatever will happen will happen, but first...you'll have that. With him."

"Again, your logic is sound. Sleep. Do not be anxious for me," he said and before retreating as he'd done before, replaced the knight in the center of the empty board for her to see.

* * *

 

McCoy ran a hand over his rough face as he paced in Jim's quarters. Christine was right. Spock was right. He had to speak with Jim and after tossing and turning all night it was clear that it had to be today. Only, he wasn't sure he could last with his secret until after Winona left, which was soon after the chess game this very morning.

"Are you that nervous about this game?" Jim said. McCoy glanced at his friend, who sat with arms crossed, a smirk on his face. "Is it that you're worried I'm going to lose? Or that I'm going to win and Spock will have lost to a blind man. Because, really, that would be sad."

"That's not even funny." McCoy scowled, still pacing. "Stop it, Jim."

"I can't make blind jokes?" Jim asked incredulously.

"No," he snapped, turning to glare at Jim. "You can't."

"But I'm the one that's bli - "

"Doesn't matter. It's rude."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Rude to whom? You?"

"Well...yes. I'm your best friend, you moron, and if you don't have the decency to feel badly about being on the receiving end of a joke about a blind man, than I'll be upset for you," McCoy rambled as he paced faster than before.

"But...I'm the one who made the joke."

"Really doesn't matter who made the joke, only that it was made at your expense," McCoy snapped.

"Will you just tell me what's eating you?" Jim asked with an exasperated sigh. "Because you're starting not to make any sense and if you wait any longer before you bother telling me what's wrong, it'll make even less sense."

"Not now," McCoy muttered. "Spock's almost here."

"The game can wait if my best friend woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Jim said.

"At least I'm making jokes that are..." McCoy swore. He couldn't go there. Grumpy jokes? What the hell was he thinking?

"That are what?"

"Lamer than yours, Captain Pirate," McCoy finished and plopped down right beside Jim to distract him from their current conversation.

"Captain Pirate?" Jim snorted. "Don't I need a sword or at least an earring? Though, I guess it's because of my dark hair...and eyes. Who came up with that one?"

"Who do you think? You want more to eat?" McCoy asked.

Jim shook his head. "No."

"You hardly ate," McCoy mused, staring at the soggy cereal in Jim's half-empty bowl. "It's your favorite kind, Jim, of the healthy stuff I give you."

"It hardly has any sugar," Jim mumbled.

"Still one of your favorites."

"Just because I like it doesn't mean that it's easier on the nerves," Jim mumbled.

"If you don't want to do this today, you don't have to," McCoy said softly.

"I promised him," Jim said, head down, "And I'm tired of breaking my promises."

"Okay." McCoy could understand that. "But if it's too much strain, Jim, I'm calling the shots this time."

Jim pursed his lips.

"Jim, we only want to do what's best for you and - "

"When is it time for me to make decisions about what's best for you?" Jim said as his eyes lifted. McCoy watched those sorrowful baby blues, his own sadness once again punching him in the gut. "For Spock? For everyone on this ship?"

McCoy hesitated. A storm was brewing in that mind of his, and McCoy really didn't have a good answer for Jim, at least one that would encourage him. "You've already done so many things in our best interest, Jim, including saving our lives...numerous times."

"But I want to do more. I have to do more, Bones," Jim pleaded. "It's not enough."

Only Jim would think that having saved their asses multiple times wasn't sufficient. Neither was the fact that he died once to do it.

His best friend really was a moron.

"It's all I think about," Jim continued.

"Well, you're in the midst of a decision now," McCoy said. He got up and took the bowl to the counter. Back turned to Jim, he continued cautiously. "Sitting here, waiting for Spock so you can play that chess game he wanted with you. You're doing what is best for him, you know."

"Right."

Jim's almost dead tone was like sandpaper against his own hurting heart. McCoy braced himself against the counter. He was an idiot, thinking he could have waited this long to speak with Jim. He had to do it, or he would start reacting to Jim negatively. He turned to Jim and opened his mouth to speak when the computer announced Spock's timely arrival. McCoy sighed and crossed his arms. Just when he'd had the nerve.

"Come," Jim said, tapping his fingers on the table as Spock entered. "Bones, promise me you'll stay. You are staying, right? Grumpy or not, we need someone to referee, especially if the blind man wins. Who knows what Spock will do if he loses," Jim finished with a grin.

His expression nothing but the picture of serenity, Spock sat in the chair across from Jim in one smooth movement. "I would congratulate you."

"That's all?" Jim said, brow furrowed. "No complaints? No demand for a rematch? You two are no fun today."

Spock turned the board one hundred eighty-degrees, right under Jim's nose, and took his first move with a white pawn. "I find myself already pleased with our game."

"What?" Jim sputtered. "Who said you could go first?"

"I assumed you would not want me to show...favoritism."

The look on Jim's face was priceless. McCoy chuckled. "Oh, I'm gonna enjoy this," he drawled and pulled his chair over to where he'd have a perfect view of both their faces. He sat down, relaxed into the back of the chair with both arms behind his head.

"Did I assume I correctly, Jim?" Spock asked.

Jim scowled. "How am I even supposed to do this again? Where did you even move?"

Spock silently took one of Jim's pawns and pressed it into Jim's hand. "Use our bond."

"Do I close my eyes?" Jim asked, fingers curled around the piece.

"It may be necessary at first."

"But...how can I see gray blobs if I close my eyes?" Jim sighed dramatically. "What do I do? Close my eyes - or not?"

"I cannot clarify."

"You don't have a damn clue as to what you're doing, do you, Spock?" Jim said with a wry grin.

"I have reached several conclusions concerning this technique, having reached a fully calculated hypothesis, but they are not infallible," Spock stated.

"That's the Vulcan phrase for 'It's all bull-shit.'" Jim said. "Fine. I'm closing my eyes."

"Doctor, I will now engage the bond I have with Jim. If there is any change in the captain's vitals, you must intervene."

"I'll watch out for him," McCoy confirmed.

Spock paused. "Jim?"

"Let's do this," Jim said quietly.

xxx

_Do you know which piece I moved, Jim?_

_You know very well that I don't._

_Allow me to show you._

Jim's mind opened, allowing him entrance, and Spock reached forward to widen the bond. The space allowed him to reach beyond anything he'd ever attempted to touch in those depths. He pushed passed the Jim's basic understanding of his own sight, the threads which reinforced the shadows and light passing through his misfiring nerves, riding on the electrical impulses. He had never heard of any Vulcan providing a blind person with a stilled image or a holo. He had never heard of any telepathic being capable of aiding the blind. Spock had no idea if his hypothesis would end in utter disaster. But, if he kept to the standard of Captain James T. Kirk and believed in no-win-scenarios, at the very least this exercise would strengthen the bond they had with each other. Spock was not averse to the change.

He sensed Jim's breathing quicken as he settled as if he were looking through Jim's eyes himself.

_What the hell, Spock?_

_What do you see?_

_Well, nothing's changed but...you're seeing what I'm seeing, aren't you._

_Your eyes are closed, Jim. You are not seeing anything._

_A mere detail, Spock. A mere detail. I mean...you see my memories that are all gray. Bones pacing, moving like a blur...do you hear him? He was grouchy._

Spock imagined the doctor as Jim described, colors surrounding the human, the doctor's movements and mannerisms, and the possible emotions etched on Leonard's face. They flashed and turned and flipped through his mind before he reached and held it fast. The movement halted. There it was, rich in as much detail as Spock could fill it with. He then pushed the image away from himself, freely and wholly, allowing it to leave his grip and transfer to Jim.

A jolt passed between the bonds. Stunned, Spock held on, never relenting. He would make this happen. He pushed it through again, feeling fire between himself and his captain.

 _What the fuck, Spock, you just gave me Bones._ Jim faltered. _But...but...he's...damn, he needs to shave. And eat...Spock, what's wrong with -_

Spock pulled the image away, seeing the distress it caused, but carefully as he discovered that the mere pulling away would damage their own connection. _Leonard is well. He wants to see you succeed with your present task. Take a look, instead, at my first play, Jim._

 _Okay,_ Jim softly focused on the image. _You don't want me to worry for Bones, but I'm worrying._

_Jim..._

_Fine, fine. I see. I...I need to try this, then, for you both. But, I won't see this all bright and shiny on my end in real time, will I?_

_No, Jim, that is not what the bond will do. I will be able to provide you with images of my own moves, an opposite view of your board._

_Okay, okay._ Jim sighed. _Here goes nothing._

xxx

McCoy shifted in his chair and leaned forward, forearms on his knees as he watched Spock and Jim. A moment passed, a strange moment. Both seemed to flinch at some point and McCoy jolted up from his chair, ready to intervene but then Jim's heart rate began to decrease. McCoy decided to wait instead of interfering. Maybe the bond was working. It was a bit unnerving, knowing those two were conversing with each other through their bond. He never even gave their bond much thought when the three were in the same room together but seeing both of them with their eyes closed lent McCoy experience that was almost firsthand. Although he didn't want anything to do with the Vulcan voodoo himself, Jim was with them mentally, wasn't he?

McCoy couldn't discredit it, not even when Jim opened his eyes, focused vaguely in front of him, and very carefully brought both of his hands down onto the board. With painstaking movement but a slight tremor of his fingers, Jim found his location with one hand on the edge of the board. His other hand hovered over the pieces until he paused and found one of his black pawns. He moved it forward one space, setting it a little cockeyed in the square.

McCoy's jaw dropped.

Jim had made his first move, knocking over only one other piece in the process.

"Dammit," Jim groaned as the knight clattered across the board.

"Pick it up," Spock said softly.

Jim sighed. McCoy frowned, seeing on his PADD that Jim's vitals were again beginning to slip outside of Jim's normal levels. "I'll just knock over another one," Jim complained.

"Pick it up, Jim," Spock repeated. "I will help you."

McCoy didn't know if Spock verbally commanded Jim for his benefit or not, but now pulled directly into the game, McCoy was at the edge of his seat. Jim pressed his mouth thin and closed his eyes for about thirty seconds, but then he did Spock asked.

And knocked another chess piece over just as he had predicted. "Damn." Jim winced. "This is ridiculous."

"Your dexterity will improve. This was your first move, Jim."

"Actually, it was three," Jim grumped, "if you include what I knocked over."

"This will take patience," Spock said.

"That you may have, being Vulcan and all," Jim muttered again. He pulled away from the board and crossed his arms, expression petulant. "But not me, a man who sees gray blobs except for when you can flash me an image."

"Jim, you saw something?" McCoy asked.

"It was..." Jim grew quiet. "A...a snapshot of something Spock put together for me so I know where he moved his pawn. But this, me making a play is like you using tweezers to pick up just one of those tiny-ass ants among millions that we saw on that one infested planet, _with_ your sight intact - _impossible_."

"I was unaware that James T. Kirk gave up so easily," Spock stared at Jim. "Perhaps it would be best to cease our engagement."

"The hell we're quitting," Jim growled. "You may have taken the first turn of your own accord but you don't get to call all the shots, Mr. Spock,"

He took a deep breath and with as much concentration as McCoy had ever seen on Jim's face, replaced the piece correctly. It took time, nearly a full minute, but this time, his fingers held steady.

"Your turn."

xxx

They'd been at it now for awhile now, slow but intent on the game before them. McCoy never once lost his own focus on Jim's stats - until Jim made his thirteenth move. Jim grinned as he claimed one of Spock's white pieces.

"How do you like them apples?" Jim crowed.

McCoy's grasp slipped on the device.

_McCoy was annoyed. They were all annoyed, especially when the 'captain' pulled the apple out of nowhere and took a lazy bite of the red fruit. The crispness of the bite resounded in the room. Was he even paying attention? No, of course he wasn't. Did he care that he looked ridiculous munching on the damn apple in front of his superiors? No, of course he didn't._

_Jim called out another order between bites. As the rest unfolded, McCoy couldn't believe what he was seeing. Jim had done it, without a care in the world. Except for caring about his damn apple and not wasting ammunition. And, hell, the kid was going to more annoying than ever now that he beat the Kobayashi Maru._

"It was a reasonable move," Spock said.

"That's it?" Jim asked. "That's all you're going to say?"

_Jim threw the core away on his way out, flashing McCoy a signature golden, confident smile. "You don't have to say a word, Bones. It's written all over your face."_

McCoy's chest swelled with an uncomfortable, relentless emotion he'd rather not ever feel again. Hadn't he'd already done this? Grieve?

"Jim," McCoy whispered.

"Yeah, Bones?" Jim rubbed his eyes. "Spock, I may need a break soon."

"I just..." McCoy blinked. "I miss..."

The cocky kid with the apple. The one who then grew up, but still never lost his confidence.

Spock arched a brow. "Captain, if you require a moment of respite..."

"Naw. Let's keep going. If we don't, I may forget all of your plays," Jim grinned.

"You...I miss you, Jim."

"Captain, perhaps it would be advantageous to stop if you are feeling strain from this exercise."

"Bones," Jim said. "What do you think?"

"I think..." McCoy stood, hands clenched at his sides. As cliche as it was, he thought he was dying when the hurt gripped him like a vise in his heart. He needed Jim to know. To understand. "I've tried, Jim. Really tried. But, sometimes..."

"Three more moves," Jim said decidedly to Spock. "Then I'll take a break."

"Very well," Spock said. "Continue."

Continue? McCoy ran both hands through his hair. Hell, he'd continue. They weren't even paying attention to him and...maybe it was for the best they weren't listening. Maybe he was being an overworked, overemotional mess. Maybe he'd talk while they were intent on their game - everyone would be happy.

Except...they wouldn't be.

"I miss the old you Jim so much that...that I sometimes have a hard time believing that you're still alive," McCoy said, exhaling slowly as he watched them both. The bond was working, their eyes - and ears - closed.

Jim made his next move, and Spock followed suit.

McCoy went on. "I'm sorry, I know that sounds harsh, Jim. I know it will hurt you to hear me say that, but it hurts worse..."

"This is getting harder," Jim muttered, mouth dipped down in frustration.

It was getting harder. It really, really was. He'd thought with time, with more memories with Jim, it would all go away, but it wasn't. "...when I keep it from you."

"Your plays are satisfactory for your condition," Spock said.

Jim snorted. "You mean they're bad."

"So, I can't keep it from you, not anymore. I'm grieving...because I lost my friend..." McCoy swallowed and began to pace.

"I have a headache," Jim complained after a moment. "And this is taking a long time."

McCoy spun on his heel. He had something to give Jim for that, but he couldn't make himself treat this Jim as he thought of the other.

"You are moping, Jim," Spock said.

"I lost him, for the second time." McCoy's eyes stung. He sniffed, much like Joanna did when they talked and she told him that she missed her daddy. McCoy rubbed his eyes, cleared his throat, looked up at Jim's ceiling and down at the floor...anything to stop his sadness which had now accumulated along with thoughts of his daughter. What would Joanna think of her Uncle Jim? Of all the changes? Would she react like McCoy?

"You took my knight," Jim accused Spock. "Of course I'm moping."

But it was no use. His damn emotions had literally crept and choked him from behind.

"...and I'm never getting him back," he whispered.

xxx

The game went on and the bond burned. It burned between them, its flames swirling until the lines were blurred and Spock's mind at one point fell forward. In his stumble, he lost his grip, his center. Too focused on giving Jim the next image, he thought his stumble was weakness and that it would damage the bond. Weakness would break them. It would put out the fire instead of coaxing it to where it would be safe, damaging them both. Damaging Jim.

He could not allow that to happen.

Spock's eyes clenched tighter and he willed the energy they had gathered to strengthen. He gave all he had, inviting Jim to give more until the energy was thicker than ever. They could control it together.

 _Be prepared,_ was all he could manage.

 _But...you're burning._ Jim told him.

Spock felt it. He saw it. He was consuming Jim. Jim was consuming him. He had to focus the fire, put it somewhere before the bond was damaged.

He couldn't do it from across the table.

_Do not let go. Allow me through, Jim._

Without waiting even a second after Jim gave him permission, his fingers pressed against Jim's face. It was instant. He saw his chance and sent the energy between them straight through the misfired but healing nerves himself.

And the nerves were relit, firing as they had before any damage had occurred.

xxx

Jim's eyes flew open.

Light had become white, become color, and became everything. Darkness was still absence of light as it had been before but the grays had disappeared and in the place of shadow upon shadow - it was the world as it had been for him before.

Jim sucked in a breath. What had Spock done?

"Spock?" Jim's voice was strange in his ears, crackling and thin, while everything around him was fuller than he ever remembered. It was vibrant, filling his senses right down to the swirl of coffee in the mug on the table left by Bones. "You...I..."

He inhaled through his nose, trying to sync the sounds around him with his sight. His wanted to cover his ears, his eyes, his heart. Everything. This couldn't possibly be real. He was dreaming. He had to be dreaming. He couldn't hold on to hope that this was anything that would last. It wasn't a miracle. It wasn't anything but a dream.

_You are not dreaming, Jim._

But he had to be. It wasn't logical. Jim's eyes darted around the room, his mind dizzy with the color as he searched for his other friend. He blinked again, squinting with effort. The light hit him like the flares on the bridge did when he'd had the worst hangover of any sort, a hangover like the ones he'd had when Pike had still been alive and Jim, stupid. His eyes burned from the sensitivity. Wincing, he held his hand up to his temple, on guard. What the hell had just happened?

"Computer, lights at thirty percent," Spock ordered.

Jim curled his fingers. He rubbed his eyes with great care, mindful of the implants, until the very moment that he found Bones. The doctor's back was to Jim at the table, but Jim recognized that dark hair and that posture and that blue shirt and that green medical bag on the floor. It was distinctly and positively Bones. Dazed, Jim allowed his hands to drop. He gripped the edge of the table and stood. Bones. He could see Bones.

"Is...is this real?" Jim whispered. "Because it can't be."

"Jim, remain calm," Spock said.

Jim blinked and shifted his gaze to the black rook he'd left carelessly on the board. Bones was saying something, his voice sad and distant and loping, but everything that Jim could see hit him at warp speed.

"Jim..." Spock repeated.

Jim picked up the rook, pinching it between two of his fingers. He turned it around, focusing not on the piece but the fine lines of his hand, the hue of his skin, the callouses that weren't as hard as they once were. He'd gone soft since the Re'an mission. He'd gone soft and he'd -

"I miss you."

The broken voice jerked Jim's attention away from his self-inspection and to the broken man in the corner of the room.

"God, Jim, I know it's pathetic, but..." The shoulders dropped painfully and stilled.

"Bones..." Jim whispered.

"I lost ya." McCoy's shoulder shook once.

The sadness he sensed from Bones was familiar. It was familiar, for he heard it almost everyday in his best friend's voice, but Jim was not familiar. He'd gone soft...but...he also had just...gone.

"Jim," Spock interjected. "I know your sight has returned, but beyond that, are you well?"

"Spock?" Jim asked dumbly, eyes wide as he stared at the small insignia on the science officer's blue shirt. "I am and...I think...I think it's time for that break."

xxx

McCoy couldn't stop. It wasn't logical, but whoever said grief was? It came and went whenever it pleased. But it wasn't anything but the most ridiculous thing he'd ever done - and he just couldn't stop.

If he'd been able to hide himself even more in the corner of Jim's quarters, he would have but it was no use. He'd have to call it a day and ask for Christine to watch Jim's vitals. He'd take himself off rotation until he could pull himself together and actually be of use to someone.

The emotion that had pooled in his eyes welled up in his chest. Like an idiot, he - and his shoulders - quaked under the pressure.

"Goddammit," McCoy choked out. He rolled his hands into fists and weakly pounded the wall, as frustrated as he was grieved. "Why did you have to do everything right this time, Jim? Why did you have to save...save..."

He covered his eyes with his hand. God, he was selfish. Ironically, his damn captain had become unselfish and McCoy had inherited the former trait of Jim's directly.

"I...I don't really know," Jim said from behind him. "I'll blame it on the vegetables you make me eat."

McCoy shook his head. "Because you've been growing up, before my very eyes."

"Took long enough, huh?"

His fingers coated with the wetness spilling beneath them, McCoy cleared the thick emotion from his throat. "It's not that I'm not proud of you, because I am. I am but..."

A hand rested on his shoulder, a gentle but familiar hand.

McCoy bent under the weight, leaning towards the person he only half-realized was behind him.

"I lost ya," McCoy said, voice wobbling. "I didn't want to have to lose you ever again, Jim. We have risks out here. I know that, but, Jim...I lost you once already. You were rolled in dead...to my sickbay."

"I know, Bones."

"And then...the...Re'an...they stripped you of yourself...completely."

"I know that, too."

"I can't stop grieving. Christine tells me that I need to talk with you about it. Spock, too, and maybe they're both right, but...how do you tell your best friend you miss him, when he's still here?"

McCoy rubbed the watery mess that was his eyes.

"You just tell him," Jim said.

"But, he's sensitive. He's...he's not the same."

"I know he's a little on the sensitive side, but he can handle this." Jim's voice soothed him, this time from in front of him. "And if it helps you, you need to tell him whatever you want. He's not leaving. He's right here for you, just like you've been there for him all this time."

"But it's not fair to him."

"He understands, Bones."

A hand touched McCoy's other shoulder, somewhat breaking through. Feeling as if the world around him was surreal, McCoy managed a weak reply and left it at that. "Jim?"

"Yeah, Bones. Why don't I help you to my couch?"

Limbs weary and heart heavy and head hanging in his fatigue, McCoy allowed himself to be guided. After several shuffles, McCoy became more confused when he realized that Jim had not let go of either of his shoulders.

"Wait," he ordered. "You can't lead me. You'll get hurt. You'll..."

"Bones."

McCoy shook his head. He really should be ashamed of himself. "No, I...I kinda lost it there, but no more. I'll find my own way."

"Bones, it's okay."

He tried shrugging him off but Jim held fast. McCoy sighed, head still down, and saw the couch beside him. "Get back to your game, kid."

"Bones."

"Don't be so stubborn." McCoy sank to the couch. His head dropped, hanging lower between his shoulders now that he'd evaded Jim's touch. He just needed a moment by himself. One more - and then he'd be alright. "I only need a little time to sit, Jim. I'll be fine. If I'm not, I'll leave...and send Christine. Alright?"

"Bones, you don't need to leave." Hands cupped either side of McCoy's face and gently brought it up for the first time in ten minutes. "Look at me."

"I can't," he hoarsely whispered, eyes averted. "I'm not being fair to you. I can't right now, Jim."

"Is it because...the old me is gone?"

"I miss him."

"It's okay to feel that way, and I'm glad you told me," Jim said softly. "You have to take care of yourself, Bones, because...you haven't been. You've held this in for far too long. You need to take care of yourself, and you may feel better about doing that now. It's over, Bones."

McCoy's brow furrowed. The game? "I must be really out of it, if it's over already."

"No, I mean..." Jim paused, crouched still, in front of McCoy. "Will you look at me? Please? I need to tell you something."

"I can't, Jim."

"Sure you can," Jim urged, hands again on McCoy's face. "How else am I to know if I have something like chocolate cake on my face? You know how much I like chocolate. You know how much I like to eat of it, too. Lots of chocolate. Lots. Numbered like the pies. I like things in threes."

Threes? Chocolate cake?

Worried that Jim had broken his diet beyond the pies Chris had made him, he finally looked up but saw no chocolate smeared on Jim's lopsided grin or on his teeth - or anywhere else for that matter. "What the hell are you talking about? You had no cake."

Jim dropped his hands and shrugged. "You wouldn't listen and look at me."

"I wouldn't..." McCoy narrowed his eyes. Something was different about Jim. Something was different about Spock, too, who'd come up behind Jim with a smile on his face. A damn miniature Vulcan smile and maybe McCoy had imagined it, but it had been there. Something was...

Jim hopped to his feet. He stretched out his hand to McCoy, grin widening. "Let me give you a hand off of my couch, Bones."

Before he took his hand, something in Jim's voice caused McCoy to peer straight into the brilliant baby blues of his best friend, the ones which stared back, direct and precise for the first time in months. And then he did one better...

"Jim...you can..."

"Yeah, Bones." Jim beamed. "I can."

"How...?"

His relief and other words jumbled and unintelligible through his tears, McCoy wrapped his arms around Jim before he could reply. McCoy crushed his best friend into an embrace, holding Jim's head firmly against his shoulder. He vowed that whether it was with this Jim or the old Jim or a new one altogether, their friendship would never be the same again.

"Spock," Jim said softly by his ear. "It was Spock."

Simply put, they were stronger when together...as three.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really sure why, but I'm literally shaking as I update! So much I could say here, but I think I'll leave it with this - I need some lovin' after this one! Lol! This post was the most nerve-wracking of any, exciting but leaving me terrified because of all the work I've done leading up to these things and wanting YOU to enjoy these moments as I have planned them. I've had that chess scene on my mind from the beginning, wanting it to be more poignant than anything else and focused not only on Jim's sight being returned but also friendship. This friendship and love shared between Jim/Bones/and Spock and the symbolism of the game of chess between friends. And Winona? The intrigue? We still have three more chapters left to explore the mystery and also tie up a few more details! Since Spock has yet to inform Jim of his mother, and Jim has yet to even talk with his mother and hear things for himself, the next few chapters will carry some surprises. Many thanks to Rubyhair for beta reading and being a superb creative consultant - it really is a pleasure to work with her! Again, I thank all of you for reading!


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even describe the anxiety I felt after posting the last chapter and finally unveiling the scene where Jim regains his sight! And you all came through for me! You're the best! I am so relieved that it made the impact that I'd hoped it would. Most importantly, I'm so happy that you've stuck with me this long to get there!!!! I realize that this story has been complex with its numerous layers and that's why your support has meant so much to me. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart!
> 
> Now about this chapter. Trigger warnings for this chapter include mentions of child (sexual) abuse. This chapter also contains a fair share of choice words. As a heads up, I will again refer to an experience Jim had as a fifteen year old, en route to find his mother. I believe it is mentioned in Chapter 27 as well as another chapter later on. 
> 
> These chapters wouldn't be the same without my beta, Rubyhair. She's terrific! And so are her ideas which, in turn, give me ideas! :) I am incredibly grateful for her assistance and inspiration. All remaining errors are mine, of course. :)

"Amazing," Dr. Sheffield breathed as both he and McCoy watched the screen above Jim's biobed.

Sheffield's nurse held Jim's head steady as a machine scanned his eyes. The nano-technology already relayed the information that the optic nerves were fully functional but this was one more step to determine exactly how permanent this re-firing actually was. Sensing the captain's desire to move from his reclined position and see the image for himself, McCoy kept a firm hand on Jim's shoulder. In fact, even before they'd left Jim's quarters McCoy held him back, for as soon as McCoy had calmed down, he'd realized the amount of strain the chess game had actually placed on Jim. Much to Jim's dismay, he'd refused to let him slip away to look at his beloved ship or comm his mother. The reason being? Simply put, Jim's vitals had gone haywire. When Jim’s sight returned his body flooded with surges of adrenaline and cortisol. The mental exercise and meld, along with the sudden return of his full vision, had taken their toll. Before anything else, even giving Jim time to walk through his beloved ship, they had business to take care of first - business here in sickbay.

Sheffield shook his head in disbelief. "I have never seen anything like this in my entire career."

"Could this have happened without the surgery?" McCoy asked.

Dr. Sheffield, who had been typing furiously into the keyboard attached to the scanning device, looked at McCoy, then Kirk as his eyebrows waggled animatedly, like each was a living thing, "Honestly, can’t say for certain but I am apt to believe it would have been impossible. The nerves had been healing at a remarkable pace this past week. Therefore, the surgery did increase the potential for the nerves to fire correctly. Mr. Spock projected the energy of the bond in the right direction." He looked down at Jim. "You, Captain Kirk, are a walking miracle."

Jim smiled, "Whatever you call it, I'm just grateful."

"I know you are," Sheffield nodded. He turned to the nurse. "That's all for now. I'll run another test tomorrow before we leave."

"Thank you, doctor," Jim said and stuck out his hand, his eyes roaming the doctor's face before looking at the still of his eyes on the computer screen.

McCoy smiled to himself. Jim's wide-eyed, childlike curiosity was no surprise. He acted like he was seeing things for the first time and the more McCoy thought about both that and the Re'an influences, Jim really was seeing his world for the first time. When Jim looked Sheffield in the eye, McCoy couldn't help but wonder if Jim's close observation of the doctor included the grey of his eyes, the beginning of laugh lines along the edges. McCoy had already caught Jim staring intently at Spock's ears like he'd never seen the points at the top before. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if the captain actually asked Spock later today if he could touch them. That thought alone provided more entertainment for the doctor than he'd care to admit.  
Smiling, Sheffield shook Jim's hand firmly. "You are welcome, captain, I am pleased with this outcome."

"I'm free to go?" Jim asked, anxiously tapping his fingers on the bed.

"Yes, you are," Sheffield hesitated and glanced sideways at McCoy. "That is, unless Dr. McCoy has anything additional to say."

"You about covered it, including the limited physical activity for now so we don't accidentally reverse what just happened," McCoy said. He looked pointedly at Jim. "All I need to do is to double check Jim's vitals within the hour, making sure all levels are still normal."

After Sheffield and his nurse left the small room, Jim slipped off the bed. "I can't change your mind about the sparring? I'm dying to move around some more, Bones."

"And risk your pretty face getting smashed into the mats so soon?" McCoy replied, smirking. "Not on your life. We need to give this more time."

"Fencing?" Jim asked, eyes wide with hope.

"Nope," McCoy said as they walked out the door. "I can just see Sulu being a bit too zealous now that your sight's returned - and you being overconfident."

"Punching bag? That's a solo sport," Jim argued. "And no fists flying at me."

"Absolutely not," McCoy retorted, imagining just about anything going wrong with that one. Jim slipping or falling, included.

Jim made a face, downright sulking. "All that's left then is the boring stuff."

McCoy rolled his eyes upward. His captain was still a kid. Imagine that.

"Jim, you can lift weights with a spotter and run. It's plenty for most people." McCoy paused, knowing Jim was far from being 'most people.' He needed something - today. Especially today with his mother leaving. "What about...stargazing?"

That was calming and stationary - two things he'd like Jim to be about right now. Calm. Still. But Jim's eyes opened wide and bright and in an instant, he was dragging McCoy by the arm to the lift. "The observation deck. Why didn't I think of that before?"

"Wait, Jim..." McCoy protested.

"Maybe Mom can meet us there," Jim said.

"We just got your heart rate regulated. I don't want to see what almost happened earlier repeat itself," McCoy argued, almost tripping over his own feet as Jim manhandled him into the lift.

"Please, Bones? I don't have much time with mom leaving," Jim urged. He took out his comm, oblivious to the way McCoy now crossed his arms, scowling.

"Spock needs to speak with us before your mother leaves. Now, remember?" McCoy said, trying another approach.

As the lift door was closing, Jim commanded, “Deck six.” Jim glanced over at Bones and smiled, saying, "That will be very convenient, then."

McCoy raised his arms in frustration. "Jim, that's not what I meant."

"Hold on, Bones," Jim said, lifting the comm. "Kirk to Captain Spock."

_"Yes, Captain."_

"Captain Spock, if you are agreeable and can spare them from the bridge for a short time, I would like the senior command crew to meet me on the Forward Observation Lounge in five minutes," Jim said, the smile lighting his face making McCoy feel like the biggest fool for trying to slow him down. Could he really blame him for wanting to see his home among the stars? And, damn if he was being all polite about it to Spock, too.

The lift stopped and they got out, heading for the lounge just as Spock replied, _"Captain, I can allot you twenty minutes before I must speak with you and Dr. McCoy, along with your mother. I will gather your senior crew promptly."_

McCoy frowned, the ominous tone of the Vulcan's request affecting him more than anything. But... Jim's mother, too?

"Twenty minutes? That's plenty of time," Jim said, seemingly unfazed. "This invitation goes to you, too, Spock."

_"I will be there, Jim. Would you like me to also include your mother in this invitation?"_

Jim immediately referred to McCoy. "Kid, that's up to you," McCoy said softly. "Do you want to do this now or see her for the first time alone?"

Jim hesitated. "Not sure but I do know we're short on time this morning." Jim moistened his lips licked his lips, biting on the bottom one for a few seconds in his indecision. "Spock, that's fine."

_"We will arrive shortly."_

"Good. Thank you, Captain Spock. Kirk out."

Jim slowly closed the comm, sending McCoy a sideways glance that was so compassionate that McCoy wasn't completely sure he was ready for what was coming. "So, Bones."

"What's on your mind, kid?" McCoy muttered.

"If I didn't say this already, it's good to see you," Jim said softly, his hand stopping McCoy in the corridor.

Jim's head tilted curiously as he watched McCoy. The mannerism was so unlike the old Jim that he had to glance twice at his friend. McCoy cleared his voice and his mind before he thought about that too much. It had taken a good thirty minutes for them to somewhat calm each other down, mostly for McCoy to stop being a foolish, blubbering mess as he realized Jim had regained his sight in the midst of his personal meltdown. "You said it more than a dozen times, Jim."

Jim had reiterated the heartfelt sentiment to each person, time after time already, so much that McCoy was sure that just by virtue of hearing it, none of them would ever take their sight for granted again.

Jim's expression quickly changed as he perused McCoy from head to toe. "If my sight hadn't returned..." Jim's voice faded.

"Don't say it, kid," McCoy muttered. He knew exactly what Jim was thinking, saw it a million miles away. McCoy hadn't given his own appearance, let alone his health, the time of day since Jim returned to the _Enterprise_ catatonic. The tables were now turned. Now that he could see, Jim's obsession with McCoy's health was increasing exponentially.

"Bones," Jim said softly and crossed his arms.

"I'll shave tonight."

Jim shook his head. "That's not what bothers me, although it is a direct result of what worries me. Bones, I think you should let Dr. M’Benga examine you."

"Alright, alright," McCoy admitted, hoping his captain would drop the subject. "I haven't handled things well."

"That's an understatement," Jim said, unblinkingly. "But, it's also understandable, Bones."

"Maybe I should have taken another day or two off the past few weeks," McCoy hedged.

"Yes, you should have," Jim agreed. "But you have to focus on now, Bones. You will take a few days off, right?"

McCoy hesitated. Between barely getting his own paperwork done, taking care of Jim's needs, handling as much as his regular shift as he could, he wasn't sure he could make himself slow down yet.

"Bones," Jim's eyes held the warning of a captain. "I'll talk to Spock if you don't at least agree to two days."

"I want want to wait at least one more day, alright? Make sure everything's alright with you," McCoy explained. Jim threw him a speculative look. "It's a lot of excitement for one day, Jim, or did you forget that your body was under great stress already?"

McCoy smugly reversed the roles to what they should be - and what McCoy was most comfortable with. He, the doctor and Jim, the patient.

Jim flushed and began striding away as if to skirt around the topic. "I didn't forget. I'll take it easy, Bones, because I don't want to add to your stress. Thank you… for coming with me even though you need to check a few things soon. I guess... I guess I got too excited," When McCoy caught up and matched his stride, Jim looked at him sheepishly. "It's been so long, Bones... it's been..."

Jim stopped mid-sentence and stared ahead, expression completely dazed. McCoy had to smile to himself. Jim's unparalleled anticipation to see the stars dissolved any irritation McCoy may have had. He really couldn't deny Jim this, or anything else for that matter.

"Pushover," McCoy muttered. He added a fully performed scowl, giving Jim the grumpiness Christine had said he missed.

Jim grinned, a marvelous sight when his eyes sparkled with a happiness McCoy had long-since seen from Jim. "It was your idea, you know."

"Yeah, right. Just what I want to do. Look out into the depths of space, where there is endless disease and darkness..." McCoy paused for effect. "And now snakes."

"You know you love her," Jim said with a straight face. "Kinda hard not to, you know?"

McCoy would beg to differ but he wasn't going to argue with a man whose world had just been reopened to him much like the sun as it breaks through darkened clouds.

Jim half-smiled as they approached the Observation Lounge. "She's a little rough around the edges but when she curls up and relaxes against me, she's as soft as silk..."

McCoy's brows shot up. If he didn't know any better, Jim had literally fallen for his snake. Not that McCoy was surprised. He knew from the way Jim talked about pets in the past that whenever Jim had a pet, a rarity in itself, he'd loved the hell out of it before it was taken away from him. Jim's stepfather had a nasty habit of eradicating anything that had given Jim any happiness from his life. Friends, comms from his mom, food, books, music, movies - and Mudflap. Mudflap, the mutt Jim had rescued from starvation and hid in the abandoned Kirk barn, hadn't lasted a full month before Frank realized where the extra food was going.

Seven years old at the time, Jim paid for that one with a thick and wide, black strap. There'd been others, each and every single one ending similarly and tragically, except for the one time which had ended with a punishment worse than McCoy could ever imagine.

McCoy's stomach soured. Just thinking about it made his blood boil, and he wondered if that was one memory blessedly gone from Jim's mind forever. The Re'an could've used that one, much like the Tarsus experiences. As much as he hated to think about it, it was something McCoy needed to question Elise and Spock about. As Jim's physician, McCoy had a responsibility for both the physical and emotional needs of the captain. If that 'punishment' was still ingrained in Jim's mind, McCoy needed to know, for up until the Re'an got their hands on Jim, it still haunted the young captain and affected him in a myriad of ways. And, there was no way in hell was he going to ask Jim if he remembered ever being molested. McCoy had already reduced himself to the title of 'worst best friend' for what went down during the Re'an mission. Reminding Jim of another horrific childhood experience, one that was incredibly damaging, would sink him lower than the Rinaxian sea bug, otherwise known as lightning lice. Maybe even lower.

Frank really should have suffered longer in prison rather than falling down the stairs and breaking his neck, and McCoy really should have built that doghouse on the no-good, stepfather's grave the last time they'd been in -

"She's also a little shy, Bones," Jim continued, breaking through McCoy's internal ramblings. "Or else you're too grumpy around her still because she hides her head under my arm when she hears your voice. She's..."

The snake was afraid of _him_? McCoy could hardly believe it.

Jim paused, directing a frown at him.

"Yeah, kid?" McCoy grunted.

"Bones, what does Sam look like anyway?"

McCoy looked at him in disbelief. "You're telling me that you know all that about your snake but you don't know what she actually looks like? And don't use the fact that you were blind as an excuse. There were other ways you could have find out."

Jim reached the door to the lounge first. He scratched his cheek, the creases along his brow deepening. "Well… no?"

"I don't know whether to laugh... or cry."

Jim gave a short laugh. "You have my permission to laugh at my expense, Bones. We haven't had too much of that lately," Jim said, grin easy and loose.

"All ya had to do was just ask," McCoy drawled.

"It is a bit ridiculous, isn't it?"

"I assume the thought just never crossed your mind?"

"I guess I was trying to get used to her just like everyone else. And I was too distracted today after my sight returned. Then we left for sickbay. So, tell me, Bones." Jim looked at him eagerly. "What does she look like?"

McCoy met Jim's gaze straight on. McCoy hated snakes like no other creature alive but he tolerated Jim's. Therefore, this was a pleasant question. It was not about a fucking, abusive stepfather. It was about a snake. About Sam. This was good, considering, and most definitely something best left to Jim to figure out on his own for the positive anticipation it would give him. "Well, Jim, you're going to have to just wait... and see."

* * *

 

Soon, the most wonderful seven days she'd ever had with her son would end, but she had a few moments left, at least. A few bittersweet moments, Winona amended, as she was halted by Acting Captain Spock outside of the Observation Lounge.

"Immediately following the captain's brief visit with his crew, I will first inform Dr. McCoy of your actions. He must be sufficiently prepared to assist Captain Kirk if necessary. Only then shall we proceed, Commander," Spock stated as they lingered.

"Yes, sir," Winona said.

"Have you reconsidered telling him yourself?"

She'd changed her mind the second she'd heard about his sight returning. It must have showed on her face for Spock did not wait for her answer.

"I believe that to be best in this situation and I will make the point to inform the Captain that it was your desire to do so," Spock paused, looking at her carefully. "He will take that in consideration as he listens."

"It won't change anything," she said, although she hoped that it would. She wanted Jim to eventually trust her again. She wasn't exactly coming clean of her own accord but at least she would not be cowering in a corner as she revealed her deception.

Winona never wished to end their relationship this way but if she stepped back and took a good look at the grander scheme of things, it was all that she could do. For at least a little while, she expected that her son would wash his hands of her. Things would never be again as they were now and the thought pained her so much that she closed her eyes and practiced a mental exercise to regain her emotional control. A minute later, she drew one more deep breath and opened her eyes. Spock had not moved a muscle in his wait.

She didn't apologize for keeping them outside the lounge, neither did she give the security officers now standing guard a second glance. Her first discrete perusal had already showed her they were two officers she would not manage to overcome own her own even if she'd wanted to do something as stupid as flee, and the Vulcan before her had a fierce commitment to her son that would prove a futile challenge. Instead, she followed Spock through the doors, dependent upon her training to keep her emotions and thoughts from straying.

But when Winona spied Jim, her heart lurched. It caught in her throat as she realized that pulling away from Jim would be one of the hardest things she'd ever done. Standing tall on the deck, his confidence truly having returned with his sight, her son was everything that she imagined he would be. He was everything his father would've wanted him to be, had he been alive. Jim's senior command crew surrounded him, the formalities vanishing as all, save Acting Captain Spock, touched their captain. Jim had managed to crack a smile from Lieutenant Sulu but the exuberant hug from the beaming Chekov elicited a quiet laugh from herself. As Winona hung back, the two women, Nyota and Carol, for she was now on first name basis with them, each hugged Jim warmly.

"This doesn't mean you're off the hook if I ever need fashion advice again." Jim's teasing filled the room.

Nyota gave him a sisterly smile, affectionate and doting. "Captain, I wouldn't dream of letting you down."

Winona rooted herself to the floor, standing apart even as Jim's laughter trickled around the room. He replied in a quiet voice, a murmur to Winona, but she strained to hear and caught his thanks. It appeared that he'd appreciated their help with his clothing, an incident Winona decided she wanted to know more about for she had never seen her son blush like that before. Nyota embraced him again. Mr. Scott was last, his remarks well worth the wait when a seamless grin filled Jim's face.

Jim was happy. He was happy and she, his own mother, was going to shatter this perfect ending in mere minutes. Jim would learn of her deception from her own mouth, how her absolute love for him literally drove her from his life. He would learn of many things and many other things she would keep to herself, such as the communique she needed to make to a certain enemy-turned-ally and, well, still enemy.

Lying came second nature as did skirting around the truth in order to keep her son from harm's way.

Then there was revenge - and Jim's snake - and that was a different matter altogether, she mused.

Her goal when she first spoke with Mr. Spock had been to instill fear. It was what they all were ordered to do should they be caught, no matter the situation. If the organization was feared behind closed doors, their enemies would fear them. If she was feared, in turn, her enemies would be less apt to try to control her by using the ones she loved.

Like Jim.

Winona always knew that if Jim ever joined Starfleet, they'd cross paths. She'd only hoped it would be when she was on her way out of Starfleet and not smack dab in the middle of it. And ironically, the only way to keep him from getting caught in the middle of the dangerous cat-and-mouse-game more than he already was, was to play her cards right. She had to make them afraid. Make them believe the organization would harm Jim if he didn't cooperate, or Jim's crew. It wasn't the question of whether or not her superiors would truly inflict harm. They only needed to look like they would cross that line, for on occasions, even the best of them had.

Winona pushed her hair back, vaguely observing her son as she turned her focus inward and fine-tuned her offense. First things first, Jim had to keep his mouth shut. If Archer or anyone else other than Jim discovered that there existed an organization whose sole purpose was to sabotage certain aspects of Starfleet, she might as well aim a phaser at her own head and pull the trigger. Then how would anyone ever manage to avenge those who'd suffered on that forsaken planet, their much needed supplies having been intercepted and destroyed ? Hers was a unique position and because of Jim, doubly gratifying.

"Mom."

The handsome, youthful face of her husband came to her mind as she looked into her son's shining blue eyes, and it was that on which she focused to begin the game.

* * *

 

Once the senior crew's brief celebration with the captain ended, Spock accompanied McCoy to sickbay. The moment of decision was quickly drawing to a close, the captain regaining his sight an unforeseen development that thereby demanded Jim's involvement in the situation at hand. But, first, Spock had to convince McCoy of this fact.

"What is the captain's current status?" Spock asked politely, both he and the doctor now in McCoy's office. He clasped his hands behind his back in an effort maintain his patience. Jim and Winona remained on the observation deck, two security officers hovering right inside the closed doors as the mother and son drew their visit to a close. Spock sensed Jim's growing unease about his mother, a frustration as he observed her behaving in a manner contrary to the past seven days. Distant in her emotional attachment and withdrawing from him with each passing moment. For these very reasons, Elise was on her way to the Forward Observation Lounge in order to remain near Jim until Spock returned.

Indeed, the issue of the captain's command required immediate action.

McCoy kept his attention on the device in his hand, his eyes moving rapidly across the screen. "His health? He's perfectly fine, now that the chess game is over and the adrenaline has dissipated. The visual exercise placed stress on his body, as did the meld, but now that he's received the proper treatment, everything is within normal range and steady."

"The bond between us strengthened beyond what I expected."

"I'll say," McCoy gave a dry laugh. "From what Jim described, combined with the adrenaline that shot through his body, it's no wonder his stats were almost off the charts. I should've been paying more attention."

"You were not in error."

"No?" McCoy cocked an eye. "You asked for me to watch over Jim and I did no such thing."

"No harm was done." Spock said quickly. "Therefore, I believe it is time to consider reinstating Jim's command."

"What?" McCoy's eyes grew wide.

"I am suggesting, doctor, that you declare him fit for duty."

"You gotta be kidding me! I'm all for Jim taking his rightful place, Spock, but he needs a psych eval. His stamina isn't even where it was before all this shit happened and did you forget that less than two hours ago he was still blind?"

"Both you and Dr. Sheffield have already confirmed that his optic nerves are fully functional."

McCoy swung his gaze from the readings to peer at him. "What is this really about Spock? There has to be a reason why you want Jim back in the chair so soon."

"A present issue demands his immediate attention."

"And you have to involve Jim?" McCoy crossed his arms.

"I must," Spock explained. "It is the logical thing to do."

"I don't like it. Are you sure that this issue isn't one that you can't handle on your own? His mother leaves today, Spock. He just regained his sight and that chess game...it was intense. I'm not sure I can agree to this, not unless I know the specifics. If it's a stressful situation, and I have a feeling that it is, you know what my answer will be."

"He must be given his command," Spock said again.

"If you tell me why," McCoy challenged, "perhaps I will grant it."

"His mother," Spock said, unable to keep his eyes from drifting briefly to a spot beside the doctor's shoulder. He again contemplated the amount of grief the captain would experience. It was inevitable. It was also unacceptable that Spock could not do more than soften or delay the hurt for his friend when the time came.

"What about his mother?" McCoy's voice gained a sharp edge for which Spock was prepared to hear.

Spock forged ahead, enunciating each word as much as possible. "The intentions behind this visit are not pure."

"What do you mean, not pure?"

"She has an ulterior motive," Spock said.

"That's impossible," McCoy's eyes flared with emotion. "She hasn't been anything but focused on Jim, and Jim... he needs this, Spock. If this visit isn't what it he thinks it is, what we think it is, it'll hurt him. What the hell is she up to?"

"I will explain her intentions in their entirety but only if you agree to speak only when I am finished. You must listen attentively to understand the situation in full."

"That's asking a lot, considering I have a bad feeling already about whatever it is that you have to say." McCoy frowned, sullen as he stared hard at the PADD in his hand.

It would be difficult for the doctor to hear. It would be worse if Spock was not given the time to explain the situation thoroughly. "We do not have time to stand here and speculate, doctor," Spock said to break the silence.

McCoy seemed to understand the urgency and relented. "Fine. I'll keep my mouth shut."

"Very well. Commander Kirk is here on behalf of a secret organization unaffiliated with Starfleet but one that she claims works to 'balance the powers.' Her ulterior motive is to gain intelligence regarding the Re'an's apparent involvement with the Orion slave trade. The Re'an traded dilithium for slaves, who were then used as memory resources," Spock said. "Commander Kirk is under the impression that Jim learned details about this agreement during the Re'an mission. She believes that to protect their secret, the Re'an were forced to twist this knowledge in Jim's mind, using Dr. Jahnas' death as a cover up and thereby relying on the assumption that he would feel anguished by her death and therefore never again recall their secret."

He paused, having seen McCoy's expression morph from bafflement to shock at the news of Winona's deceit. As the word 'dilithium' crossed Spock's lips, McCoy looked as if he would interrupt, but then he clenched his jaw, keeping his promise to remain silent.

"The commander is under orders to gain as much information as possible, for it is assumed that the reserves are great," Spock continued. "Furthermore, Commander Kirk informed me that if she does not acquire the intel demanded of her, they will send someone who may resort to other efforts in order to succeed. It is possible that this is a tactic to propel us to give her information. However, as their methods are clearly unorthodox, the captain must be informed of the dangers involved."

McCoy's mouth dropped open. He blinked his eyes four times at Spock, then clamped his mouth shut. It wasn't long before McCoy swallowed, took a deep breath, and opened his mouth to speak for a second time only to chose to seal it as before.

"I concur," Spock said softly. "This is a shock, as it will be for Jim."

McCoy rubbed the stubble covering his jaw, a nervous gesture, Spock assumed, or one to ground him before he responded to this precarious situation. But then, with a narrowing of his eyes, as if suspicious of Spock himself, McCoy uttered his first question with a rabid snarl. "So you're telling me that all of the love she's shown Jim this past week, it's all been a complete lie?"

Spock formulated his response carefully, for he must satisfy McCoy's curiosity but also convince McCoy to reinstate Jim's command. "It was not Commander Kirk's intention to hurt Jim after being so attentive to him these past few months. On the contrary, her actions reveal her affection for her son. She acted in an effort to prevent him from being harmed. Her actions over the past two decades also explain her absence in Jim's life since he was a small child, as her desire was to place distance between her and her work - and the ones she loved most."

"Distance, you say?" McCoy's eyes blazed, reflecting his rising fury. "And you want to tell him this before she leaves...because I'm pretty sure you haven't told him yet, right? About his deceitful mother, who is using his love for her in this twisted, fucked up way?"

"You are correct. It is my intention to speak with them both immediately following our discussion, with both of us present as support," Spock said quietly. "I became aware of her deception prior to the candlelight dinner that Jim arranged for his mother, having overheard her questioning Elise. I used the time since then to meditate and consider the possible actions we could take, coming to the conclusion that Jim must be informed of his mother's deception before her departure. There is too much at stake, doctor, and Jim is the only one capable of handling this unfortunate situation in its entirety."

"The dinner was your idea in the first place," McCoy said, eyes narrowed upon Spock. "You set her up, didn't you?"

"Indeed," Spock nodded. "It was my intent to corner her where she could not make a scene but be forced to reveal the truth."

"And did she? Tell you the truth?" McCoy asked, his words wound tightly around his anger. "Because there are a lot of fucking holes in what you just told me. She sure sounds a lot like Section 31 to me."

"I do not believe that is where her loyalties lie."

McCoy laughed bitterly. "I doubt she has any loyalties, if you ask me. And if she really tried to protect Jim, she had a pretty funny way of doing it. Almost his entire life, Spock. His whole damn life his mother's been gallivanting around the black as a traitor? In the name of love for her sons?"

"I concur that there seems to be more to her story but her actions appear to have saved Jim from harm up to this point."

"Have you thought about melding with her to find out the truth?"

"Due to the nature of the bond I have with Jim and the fact that I have recently suffered from mental attacks because of that bond, my very ability to properly and safely perform a mind meld with another party has been negated. I cannot risk it, doctor. The potential deleterious effects for both myself and Jim far outweigh any benefits that could be had. As far as utilizing Elise's telepathic powers, I have also determined that the risks far outweigh the benefits based on her relationship with Jim."

"So, you're telling me that this is the only way," McCoy scowled. "Placing Jim in the center of everything."

"Ironically, Commander Kirk's future must be placed in Jim hands."

"I can tell you right now where he should put her future," McCoy snapped. "Where the sun don't shine, in hel - "

"Leonard," Spock interrupted softly. "He must to be the one to make the decision about his mother. His heart is ready, doctor. He is of sound mind."

"This is his mother, Spock. He'll be emotionally compromised. She lied to him, got him to trust her, to forgive her... and then used him horribly. After all the progress they've made and now to see it thrown away? Their relationship will never be the same. So tell me, how is he going to be able to be in control of his emotions? Of anything? How will he be thinking clearly about this at all?!"

"His mind is focused on the good of the crew. You know this, Leonard," Spock reminded him. "It is a fundamental thought, the basis of his every action. It is, in fact, inherent in his nature as a Re'an as well as human. He will protect those for whom he is responsible, taking the task upon himself to do what is first best for his crew."

"That may be true, but it will affect him and we can't possibly predict how except to know that he will be devastated. Hell, with this new nature of his, he may place the blame entirely on himself for loving her in the first place, which ultimately has called more attention to his crew, endangering them," McCoy protested. "This week has been one of the happiest times in his life, despite his blindness. His mother, Spock. His damn mother has showered him with the affection he never received but always deserved. This could almost destroy..." McCoy's words seemed to died in his throat, but then he swore softly. "Dammit."

"Her deceit will not harm him irrevocably. I will not allow it," Spock said. "I will use our bond to calm him and steady his emotions. Dr. McCoy, please be advised that I would not suggest this if I did not have complete confidence in his abilities."

"I have confidence in Jim, too, but bond or no bond, Jim's very emotional health is on the line - again - and after all he's been through, after we've finally reached a point where I can actually breathe and you can function normally and he can be happy, I'm not sure he'll be able to handle it." McCoy set his jaw.

"This situation will not reach a reasonable or sufficient conclusion today without Jim's intervention," Spock said. "It is logical, doctor, to first reinstate Jim as captain of the _Enterprise_ and give him this responsibility since she is his mother. He is also in the direct line of danger."

"I do realize that he needs to know about this. He probably could make more sense of this than us, having given thought to Winona's actions his entire life. But, this is this Jim, Spock, and I....." McCoy sighed and sank into his chair. "If this isn't a fucking variety show. Our very own Captain Pirate, Sam the Snake, and now... Mother Spy." He tapped his fingers on his desk, muttering, "Spock, I don't want to see him hurt."

"You also fear that he could lose parts of himself and the man he has become, broken once more," Spock said.

"It's possible," McCoy nodded.

"He will endure, doctor. The trials the captain has experienced will not go to waste."

McCoy stared at him curiously. "That's one way to look at what the Re'an has done to him."

"It is the only way," Spock confirmed.

"If he can handle becoming Re'an and everything that got him there, you're right. He really is capable of doing this," McCoy murmured. "He has proven that he can endure. Still, I would feel much better if you can help him in some way. Are you sure you can prevent him from feeling the pure agony of all of this? At least until he can make a sound decision - and get her off of his ship?"

"I am certain of it."

"It's gonna hurt," McCoy warned.

"Which is also why I believe giving Jim his command will strengthen his resolve," Spock explained firmly.

McCoy's eyes flickered with remembrance. "Resolve, huh? I suppose you're right...again. What I wouldn't give to see him order her off of his ship. Damn." McCoy rubbed his temple in circular movements. "It's gonna hurt like nothing he's ever experienced before. I don't think what he experienced in the manifestations will even come close to this, but maybe having some control will help him."

"Although I concur with your observation, if we delay, this only has the potential to harm him even more at a later point in time," Spock said.

"I'll do it," McCoy straightened his shoulders and began typing on his PADD. "It will be the fastest recovery-to-reinstatement in the history of Starfleet captains, but on two conditions." The doctor looked up with both brows raised high.

"Proceed," Spock said.

"Condition one? It's probationary," McCoy said simply. "He still needs those evaluations and he can't work full shifts for at least two weeks. My second condition is this: you will not get in the way if I see that he can't handle the stress. Neither will you prevent me from declaring him unfit for command."

More than satisfied with the doctor's decision, Spock nodded. "Those conditions are logical. Agreed."

* * *

 

Time passed all too quickly for Jim. More fascinated by his ship than ever before, Jim could hardly keep his eyes on one spot for very long. He felt like he had been reborn. He was enthralled by absolutely everything, from the simplicity of watching the smiles grow on his crewmembers' faces to the grand sights beyond the viewscreen. Though it was sad to see his friends leave so soon, Jim understood and promised them that they could spend more time together later tonight. Once the doors to the deck closed behind his senior crew, two security guards remained behind and conversed between themselves. He thought it odd but did not wish to intrude upon their conversation. It didn't matter to him that he and his mother weren't alone. Jim sat down beside his mother, both quiet company for the other. They'd said so much to each other already and what was left to say, Jim felt his mom already knew. He was thankful for this time with her and especially this - sharing their love for the stars. After all this time, it seemed fitting to end their visit this way.

Jim engrossed himself with the view beyond the screen, somewhat bothered by the continued silence when the air between them seemed to thicken all on its own. Finally succumbing to his curiosity, Jim glanced sideways at her in concern. He even squeezed her hand. She did not respond except for a weak squeeze back and a weaker smile. Feeling something that was too close to panic, Jim grasped at explanations that were reasonable but ultimately resorted to a numbing of his mind to ward off his anxiety, almost settling into the same safe place that Spock had provided him weeks ago. But then Elise entered not one minute later, slowly calming his nerves. Winona visibly tensed beside him.

"You and Elise don't get along, do you?" Jim asked Winona quietly, seeing that Elise had stopped to speak with both officers.

"I wouldn't say that, Jimmy," Winona murmured. Her cheeks dimpled only slightly and the smile never reached her eyes. "It's a bit complicated."

It was then Jim knew. This was intentional. This was distance that his mother was putting between them as they sat, silent. It wasn't contentment. It wasn't anything but a lie. His shoulders sagged, bearing the weight of something he'd felt countless times before. _Abandonment_. Sighing, Jim averted his eyes. He should have known she would show her true colors as she always did before and lie to him. He should have -

_Captain Kirk, be mindful of your thoughts. There is much to learn here and I will take you through it._

Jim breathed out slowly. _Elise, this is why you've stayed away. It's my mother. You sensed something. Her lies... her deceit._

Elise was silent.

What was she even she lying about? Her concern for him? Something else? Her very reason for being here? Was this why Spock wanted to talk to Jim and his mother?

"Dammit," Jim whispered, the world around him in slow motion as he stood up and moved away from her. "Dammit."

He walked closer to the viewscreen, bemoaning his desire to be loved.

_She does love you._

He could never believe that again.

_Don't lose your hope, Captain. But I must warn you. I will not be staying. You must do this on your own._

_Elise, I don't understand._

_I must go now. Commander Spock will be here with Dr. McCoy shortly._

_Elise - wait..._ Jim turned, eyes cast towards the door but she was already gone.

And his mother standing next to him, somehow having put her hand around his arm without him knowing. "Jim, no matter what happens, I'm glad we had this time together. I love you - and nothing will get in the way of that."

Her words curled gently around his heart, kneading it and making it malleable to her love and direction. Pushing away her affection hurt. It hurt but it was necessary. He had to rebel against his mother and be prepared, as Elise had warned. Besides, the old him wouldn't have fallen for this. The old him wouldn't have allowed himself the luxury of feeling a mother's love. The old him had the unsavory memories of abandonment, of a false affection, ingrained. The new him did not.

He'd made a big, big mistake.

Jim pulled away from her. How could he have been so stupid? So...senseless to believe that it could last?

"Jim," she said quietly.

He didn't know how long he stood there, stoic and silent. His mother said his name again. He ignored her, and he shouldn't have ignored what the old him had learned about life. He should have been smart enough to ask Spock or Elise or Bones or someone else to drill those things into his head. Self-reliance. His mother's lack of interest in his life. The pattern of abandonment. All of it.

"Jim, I've declared you fit for duty."

Baffled that he hadn't even heard the doctor slip onto the deck, Jim spun around to also find Spock, standing next to Bones. "What? Are you crazy?"

Face drawn into an expression Jim couldn't decipher, Bones handed him a PADD. "You're back in business, Captain."

Jim took the device from him, confused. "You declared me fit for duty?"

"Read it," Bones said, indicating his head towards the PADD.

Still skeptical, Jim arched a brow at Bones but glanced down. Out of habit his fingers followed the letters, word by word, line by line. The official report confirmed it all. And then he read it again. Both Bones' statement and his signature were staring him in the face but Jim still glanced up in question. "Bones?"

"It's real, Jim," Bones confirmed, voice quiet.

Jim rubbed his jaw, feeling a flood of emotions. They really had reinstated his command. "But...why?"

_Focus on me, Captain._

Jim searched his first officer's face and latched on to his warm expression as he requested.

"We have an urgent matter to discuss," Spock said, his eyes soft.

_It is your mother, Jim._

"Commander Kirk has asked to speak with you," Spock continued, gaze holding Jim, beckoning him.

_She has come here as a spy, wanting information that you may have learned while on the Re'an mission._

_A Spy? What? How? What information?_

"Because of the nature of the situation, I have asked security to stand outside these doors," Spock stated.

_Coveted dilithium reserves. The Re'an traded their dilithium for Orion slaves. For memories, Jim..._

Jim's world came crashing down around him. _No. Spock-_

_Listen to me, Captain. Allow me to shoulder the hurt for you until you can make your decision._

"I never meant for this to happen, Jim, but I had no choice," Winona said.

_She is conflicted. She is mournful of this situation, but she will continue to use you to get what they want._

Spock's strength of mind in _his_ mind the only thing holding him together, Jim met his mother's tormented gaze. "Then tell me," he said. "From the beginning."

* * *

 

However, Winona didn't start at the beginning, as Jim had anticipated. And when she finished, all he wanted to know was - why? Jim silently swiveled his chair so his back was half-turned to her. He looked through the transparent aluminum windows seeing the reflections of three pairs of eyes upon him. Leaning an elbow on the table, with hand under his chin, he took his time developing his response. He paused in his decision-making entirely when the desire to feast his eyes on his Silver Lady and the star field beside her hit him like a phaser bolt to the heart. Irony had struck again. It seemed the universe just couldn't allow him the pleasure of enjoying even one good thing for very long.

After one last look at the world beyond him, Jim swung the chair back around and clasped his hands on the table. He'd based his reply on the few facts she presented to him. She was not forthright with their allegiance, nor did she allude to any solid fact about the true purpose of the organization. What little she did give him only fanned the fire within Jim to seek the truth.

"Your deception makes you a traitor, whether or not your intentions, as you so call them, are for the benefit of those you say you love," Jim finally said, his quiet voice still commanding.

_Captain, I received the same explanation. Nothing more, nothing less._

_Even if this really is a balance of powers, as she said, they are still dangerous. We don't know which side she is working for. More than likely she plays both of them._

_I concur. Proceed cautiously._

His mother shifted in her seat. She bit her lower lips, losing her poise. "Jimmy..."

"Not only that, but you have managed to endanger both my ship and my crew," Jim said through clenched teeth. "I cannot possibly accept anything else you have to say."

Her eyes filled with hurt. "If it hadn't been me, my superiors would have sent someone else would have come to find you."

"No, that's not it." Jim said with a dry laugh, getting up from the table and starting to pace. "That isn't what has put us in danger. It's you. You let down your guard months ago. You got too close to me and allowed them to take a closer look."

"You're George Kirk's son. My superiors have watched you the minute you showed up on the Academy grounds, Jim. Just by the merit of your name you've been watched closely," she said, already out of her seat and following him. "What else was I supposed to do?"

Jim halted in his tracks by the windows. He spun around and stepped forward, his body towering over her. "First, I don't believe for a moment that you have many superiors - if any at all. You have tossed that idea out far too much for it to sound credible to me. Not only that, but you had too much freedom to come here as quickly as you did, even with Archer's assistance, hinting at a superior whose cover may be a captain. Or, am I to believe that you somehow managed to convince Captain Roark of the _Isis_ to warp halfway here before Dr. McCoy even contacted you?"

Winona's resolve matched his own. "You can think anything you want, Jim - "

"You will refer to me as captain or Captain Kirk, Commander," Jim said coldly.

"Captain," she repeated.

Jim narrowed his eyes at her. She'd grown far too quiet too quickly after he reprimanded her. "Archer - does he know what you've been up to? Sam?"

Something flickered in Winona's eyes. "Sam doesn't know. He has a family now, on Deneva, Jim. And neither does Archer know, at least not to my knowledge."

"The old man's too old to get into this business," Bones muttered. Jim stole a glance at the doctor. He had great respect for Archer, even more so since he'd allowed Jim to remain on the _Enterprise_. Bones lifted his chin. "Well, he is. I'm not sure how he's even managed to live as long as he has but I doubt that he wants to spend the remaining days of his life dealing with the stress of a spy business from the view of his retirement home - when somehow it seems he isn't really retired. I don’t understand how the hell that one works," He finished mumbling.

Jim nodded. "I believe that, at least."

"You believe a lot of things, seeing that I'm not in the brig," Winona said and looked pointedly at Spock.

Jim glanced sideways at his first officer. She was right, he considered, half-amused. And if it had been Jim who had known of this deception from the beginning, she would be pacing in the brig at this very moment. "I trust that my first officer's decision was based upon logic and not about providing you comfort."

"Indeed, Captain." Spock arched a brow. "It was my intention to provide security for the entire ship as well as keeping her deception from you until my decision had been made. She was no physical threat. It was sufficient."

"I understand this is a shock, Jim, but I still have my orders. I must talk with you about the Re'an and their dilithium reserves," Winona said.

"I know nothing," Jim gritted. "Both Spock and Elise can also attest to this."

"We need something. Anything. You need to try harder to remember -

"Have you learned nothing about Jim and his experience with the Re'an this week?" Bones' voice oozed with sarcasm. "In your search for intel, did you forget what they did to him? If Jim says he doesn't know, he doesn't know. And he won't be able to do any trying."

Winona shook her head. "He has to try."

"No, I don't," Jim said vehemently, surprised at his own passion. "I will not bend at will to those who work in secret, especially when they refuse to explain the reason behind their cause."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I can't tell you."

"Then, Commander Kirk, you shall tell your superiors that I have no knowledge that would be of use to them. My guess is that neither does Soona, and if you or anyone else harms a single hair on her body..." Jim straightened his spine and broadened his shoulders as he allowed his unspoken threat to sink in.

When Winona made no effort to reply, Jim stepped towards her. He clutched her arm, glaring down at his mother and furious that she'd even hesitated.

"She is an innocent woman in all of this," Jim said through clenched teeth. "I swear, if you harm her, the woman who is like a sister to me, you will rue the day you ever stepped foot on my ship."

"I won't harm her and they won't, either," Winona amended quickly as his grip involuntarily tightened. "I have some sway. Not always, but some."

He released her carefully. "Still not the truth," he said, much calmer than he was a few seconds ago, thanks to Spock. "But it'll have to do for now."

_Spock. It's not enough._

_Understood, Captain._

"I would like clarification, captain," Spock interjected, leaning to talk softly in Jim's ear. "Otherwise, we will need to contact Admiral Archer immediately regarding the danger to Soona's life, thus revealing your mother's participation - "

"Wait," Winona said swiftly.

All three turned their heads.

"Jim is right," Winona said, glancing at them one by one. "He's right."

"Care to elaborate?" Jim clenched his jaw.

Winona drew a quick breath. "I don't have many superiors. It has given me the freedom to watch out for Jim - and also come here so soon, yes."

"But you do have plenty of friends," Jim said slowly as thoughts of his teenaged years raced through his mind, finally halting at age fifteen when she was one step ahead of him. She couldn't have done that… the thought was sickening.

_Spock? Could she have?_

_It is a logical conclusion, Captain._

Winona nodded, hesitant. "We have those, yes."

"Pirates, for example," Jim sent her a sardonic smile. "Pirates who attacked this ship I happened be on after Tarsus, when I was fifteen and stupidly looking for you."

Her face fell. "Jimmy..."

Bones stepped forward beside him, his expression enraged. "God help me, if you were the one who -

"Bones," Jim warned.

He stopped the doctor with a firm hand, shooting a glare at Winona.

"Don't,” he swallowed, narrowing his eyes, and when he continued there was an edge of danger in his voice that hadn’t been there since Re’an. “Do Not Ever call me Jimmy again," he ordered, as the sounds of terrified children tore through his ears like a thousand crashing starships. "You no longer have the right. Children were frightened, Commander Kirk. _I_ was frightened."

"They never harmed anyone," she said, raising her voice in earnest. "I did what was best for you and the other child - "

"No," he accused. "You did what was convenient for _you_ , forgetting that you had nearly one hundred blind children's lives in your hands. Children, Commander, who may not have been able to see but they _heard_ ; they felt _everything_."

"It was all - "

"I can't accept that it was your only option," Jim railed, anger surging into every fiber of his being. "Do you know what it's like to feel fear when darkness presses all around you and you can't escape it? To feel helpless with your eyes open? To hear danger approaching you, to feel the fear shooting down your spine, knowing there is literally nothing you can do to stop it? To not know when the danger will strike? Or which part of your body will feel the pain first? Do you even know how it is to be fucking blind and terrified!"

Winona flinched away.

"Well, I do, Commander Kirk. I fucking do, and I'm twenty-seven years old," Jim snarled down at her. "If I was afraid, now imagine a three year old named Gracie pulling at her ears until they're red and swollen, a six year Inam so frightened that he pisses in his pants, and a ten year old Brenna who stands in shock until a man four times her size runs her over because she didn't know she had to move out of the goddamned way!"

"God, Jim, " she whispered. "I'm sorry. So - "

"I'm not done, Commander," he raged, chest already heaving.

She widened her eyes, lips pressed together tightly as they stared at each other. He wanted her to understand their differences. That he, the Jim Kirk who'd survived the Re'an, could no longer see the world as he once had. He'd understood the gray areas of life since he was a child, that knowledge becoming clearer as time went on and his own experiences had worsened. He'd even done questionable things himself, even bending the law to save others as a child, as a teen, and as a captain - and probably still would to save his crew, if he was to be honest with himself. But things had changed. _He_ had changed. He didn't see the world as he once had - and he wasn't sure that he'd ever see it the same way again.

"Imagine dozens of blind children in the midst of what seemed to be a hostile attack, their screams haunting your dreams for the next twelve months just as you imagine their dreams were haunted. The horror that the others, who were truly blind, had been handed the same fate as you- kidnapped. Yet, you were the lucky one that could see and later save your own hide. You were scared and terrified and abandoned. But you were the lucky one," Jim rasped, voice thick with emotion. "That is why, Commander Kirk, I cannot accept your excuses."

"I'm sorry, Jim. You were the only one taken from that ship," she said. Her eyes filled with remorse. "The only one, Jim, because that was what they were told do, and you don't know what the other side of that star system held in store. But I - we - did, and the ship with the children -”

"Limped back to a Starbase, with terrified blind children in tow?" He accused harshly. "Far away from danger, right after a hostile attack by pirates? As if your excuses negate the experience, wiping it forever from their minds."

"You're right. It doesn't make any of it disappear, but you're all alive, Jim. And you were taken by them because I couldn't have you following me, because, damn..." She said with a dry laugh. "You were on to me. You were so determined and smarter than ever because of Tarsus. I knew you'd find me eventually but I couldn't let that happen, not with what we were uncovering."

"To protect us - and your cause," he said with a mocking smile. He didn't know if he could ever come to grips that this was her excuse for being absent all his life. He had never felt loved by her until recently - and now he was forced to try to find that love in this mess she'd woven around them. A mess he had no idea how to untangle. And some twisted part in himself wished that he _did_ know how to untangle this mess and feel that love from her again.

"Yes," she answered heatedly. "We had no choice but to do what we did. You, of all people, know that sometimes you have to make decisions that are downright messy."

"Don't give me that," he hissed, furious that she had belittled the harm inflicted upon those children. "You should have found a better way. _I_ would have found a better way."

"There wasn't one that wouldn't give away our leads," she said, her voice raising. "We're not with Star..." Winona clamped her mouth shut and looked away.

_Captain, I believe that we can now ascertain that she is telling the truth regarding the organization's leadership. They do not operate according to Starfleet standards._

But they _were_ Starfleet. His mother was an officer, leading him to believe there were others like her, treading the line between black and white. _There are more, Spock. She can't be the only one within Starfleet working for this organization._

_I concur. There must be others. Proceed with caution, Jim._

"And what exactly would your 'superiors' do to find out if Soona has the information you need?" Jim taunted. "If you'd frighten innocent children and order strangers to haul me away to keep your secrets, I assume you'd stoop to an even lower level to uncover more secrets from one woman."

"If you can give us one thing to go on, maybe I can prevent her involvement."

"Could you do it?" Jim questioned. "Could you ask her?"

"My methods are usually straight to the point, Captain Kirk," she said, face impassive.

"Explain," Jim ordered.

"I begin aggressively," she said. "But, I usually deal with more... volatile people."

His mother was one of the worst of them? Again, he was not surprised. Perhaps revenge had been a catalyst of her own involvement in this organization, wanting to avenge her husband's death. Revenge would give her the drive for utilizing such interrogation methods. If she didn't have something to spur her on vindictively, Jim would simply have to settle for the explanation that his mother was insane.

"Except when it came to me and this very visit," Jim stated coldly. "Then you seemed to have some sense of self-control. Why? And don't say that it is because you truly care for me. Or that I was blind."

"If I cannot state the truth that I love you and never wished to harm you," Winona said quietly, "then I will say the other part of the truth. You look like your father."

A biting chill swept over Jim's body, and he couldn't help himself. Stunned, he took a step back.

And then another.

"Oh, that's rich," Bones snapped from beside him.

"It's true," she replied. "It is one of the reasons."

"You just had to throw that in there, didn't you," Bones said and stepped in front of Jim, blocking his view of his mother.

Still, Winona's softly spoken sentiment cracked something in Jim, as it had when she mentioned it when she'd first arrived. A whimper began to creep up his chest, threatening to undo the all the control he'd maintained.

Spock came beside Jim, shoulder to shoulder. _Captain, breathe._

_Has she any love for me at all, Spock?_

_Yes. Elise senses it._

Jim breathed, in and out, not knowing how he was going to maintain any semblance of control now that his mother had played that card.

"What do you mean?" She asked, voice growing even quieter.

"What do I mean?" Bones asked incredulously. "You're telling me that the thought never crossed your mind that you resented your son, Jimmy, because he looked -"

"Bones," Jim whispered, seeing himself deage before his very eyes, hiding his face when his mom looked at him like that.

" - like his father. Have you convinced yourself - "

Jim was four. The air rushed from his chest. No...no. He was not a naive child. He was...was an adult...a captain... "Bones..."

" - that Jim never even noticed how you stayed away from him? That as a child, he didn't notice the resentment?"

"I'm sorry. Jim...I..."

Jim shook his head slightly but forced his hands at his side. He clenched his hands, feeling every muscle taut as he willed himself not to feel sorry for her, the woman whose face had gone pale as she realized her own ignorance.

"Bones," Jim said, finally finding his voice as he nudged the doctor aside.

"Jim, this has gone on long enough" Bones argued. "Especially if she's going to play dirty like this."

Jim shook his head once. He had to find out more, get her to the point where she was so desperate that she would begin to fill in the holes he saw in her story.

"I...no, surely you never misunderstood that. I loved your father and seeing him in you. It never was resentment. It was love that hurt, but it was love," Winona pleaded. "Jim, I never wanted to hurt you like that."

"It's Captain, Commander Kirk." Jim said shortly, holding her apology at arm's length. He didn't trust her, not yet. She'd told him lie after lie, and he had a duty to his crew, first and foremost, and not to his heart. "Do I need to remind you yet again?"

She first glanced tentatively at Bones then back to Jim. "No, sir," she pursed her lips. "Captain."

"Is there anything else you wish to say before I inform you of my decision?" Jim asked.

"No, sir," she said and after a short breath, met his own nearly impassive stare. If he hadn't recognized the pleading in her eyes, her face would now be completely void of emotion.

He inwardly sighed. So they were finished, and he would be forced to utter the very words that could, quite frankly, completely dissolve their recently cultivated relationship. The pain of this severed trust settled in his heart but he didn't fight it as Spock finally allowed the feeling to wash over Jim. He needed the reminder, to feel the very thing which would then propel him to protect his crew.

"Very well, Commander," he said quietly, signaling that he was ending their conversation.

"Ji... I mean, Captain, sir," Winona said, his name broken on her lips. He couldn't help but flinch. "Please. I know this is hard, that it hurts, but I don't want to leave with you angry with me. I can explain-"

"Now you want to tell the truth?" He mocked. 'Hurt' was a small word to describe what she'd done. Her actions were so twisted, underhanded as she'd pledged her life to some organization all this time to keep him safe, abandoning him as a child and never once looking back except for a few days each year and irregular comms. All of those days, all of those years, empty. Empty but filled with a child's pain because of something he had yet to understand. The ache stroked slow, settling deep despite Spock's shielding, but the matter at hand was the safety of his crew. As of now, he would never know if they would be looking over their shoulders indefinitely.

No one would. His mother was just as stubborn as he was.

Winona's eyes fluttered downward. "The truth is dangerous, Captain Kirk."

"More lies, then, Commander?" He asked his mother softly.

Her silence damned her.

Jim exchanged a glance with Bones, whose normal scowl was replaced with the cold fury of a protective friend, and then with Spock, whose unflappable expression also offered Jim comfort.

_Captain, you must proceed. It is the only logical course of action that has the desired outcome that you seek. Further delay will arouse suspicion of your actions._

Jim suppressed a frustrated sigh. Yes, he was stalling. He only wanted the truth. He wanted a lot of things. He wanted to believe that the love his mother had for him was pure and good instead of tainted with lies and bruised by betrayal. Her lies were destroying that already fragile bond between them, their relationship decaying before their very eyes, but call him a fool. He wanted his mother and everything they'd had before. The truth may be dangerous but he craved it, and he would go as far as he possibly could to get it.

Even if it meant playing a card of his own.

"We're done," he said, his voice like steel.

He ignored the softening, pleading eyes of the woman before him. He ignored the voice in his head begging him to brush this all aside and trust her and the other voice screaming at him to send her to the brig and turn her into the proper authorities. Instead, he relied on the calm resolve of his first officer and the instinct he had to protect the most important people in his life - his crew. If he called attention to his mother and this organization, if anyone else knew they were looking for this dilithium, including their enemies, he may be placing his crew in even more danger. There was no way of knowing for certain and Jim would not take that chance.

But maybe, just maybe, in doing this he would get lucky and both his mother and her superiors would see that Captain Kirk, although far different than the Kirk who'd last commanded the _Enterprise_ , was a force to be reckoned with. He would not give in and hand over what they wanted, even if he did know something about the dilithium. It didn't matter to him whose side this organization was on. Their ways were not his nor were they his crew's - and they never would be.

"At this time, this knowledge goes no further until I decide to speak first with my senior command crew and then Admiral Archer," he said firmly.

"Jim, please..."

"No, Commander. I've had enough."

"Jimmy- "

"Enough!" Jim snapped as Spock relinquished his control over Jim's emotions. The feelings stirred, Jim's ability to purposefully use those emotions now returning. He allowed his anger to swell at his mother and at whomever was behind this deception, ultimately pitting his own mother against him. It was time. He wanted the emotional anguish. He wanted it to become pure rage directed at this woman who professed that she loved him yet used him, severing his trust. He wanted the power of holding her very life in his hands. He wanted those she worked for to squirm for a little while. Only then would she or anyone else see that he and his crew were not to be toyed with. "My visit with you is over, Commander Kirk. Mr. Spock?"

"Yes, Captain."

Jim looked at his mother with a heart of stone. "Please escort Mrs. Kirk off of my ship."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was hard...hard to write, hard to share because of the hurt in it, and quite frankly, a little messy with what's going on between Jim and his mother. But, now we are set up for the final chapters. And if you are thinking you smell a sequel? You may be onto something...but I can't give a timeframe for it. Two more chapters left!
> 
> This story wouldn't have been the same without you all, so thank you all for reading and reviewing! Link to my tumblr account is in my profile. Sometimes I do post things in reference to this story or other fics I'm working on.
> 
> One final note: the Rinaxian Sea Bug/lightning lice is a real (and gross) thing, at least according to the ST cookbook.


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the longer wait! I haven't been sitting on my hands - this chapter ended up being a bear at 23K and life's been busy! I wanted this update to get you from point A to point B, but it only gets you to the half-way point. ;) I decided to split the chapter up for your reading ease, and I will post the rest soon since I originally planned for this to be one chapter. This way, though, you'll get to chew things over a bit because there is a lot of content.
> 
> After months and months of working on this story, and the sweat and tears I've poured into it, we are so close to the conclusion! And seeing things come full circle! Here's a hint in regards to Winona: I've used a canonical idea, tweaking TOS a little to connect it with Jim's past and also the incident on Re'an ...and if you are up on ST canon, you may be able to figure a few things out by the little clues I've left, especially in Winona's inner dialogue. ;)
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I appreciate all of your comments. :) Also, I don't know what I'd do without Rubyhair, my beta! She's been incredibly helpful and supportive. I can't thank her enough!
> 
> Well, we're picking up right where we left off last time. I hope you enjoy the read!

Jim curled his hands into fists, the truth of what he'd just done hitting him like a powerful, unavoidable blow sinking deep into his gut and taking his breath away. It hardly seemed real that his first act as captain had been ordering his own mother off of the _Enterprise_. The last look she'd given him would have seared him had he not been capable of utilizing the bond he had with Spock, ultimately transforming his hurt into rage to protect himself. Now that Winona had been forced to turn away, he dug his nails into his skin as if the physical pain alone could ground him and level his thoughts. His rage had served a purpose but he couldn't allow it to cloud his thinking. He'd find a more permanent way to remind himself what she had done, something other than memory, because look what that had gotten him. A broken heart and, quite possibly, danger headed straight for his crew.

Now that his sight had returned, he had a ship to run and, with it, decisions to make that he'd never thought he'd ever have to face. He'd been stupid and foolish to allow his mother to come back into this life like he had, and he refused to use what the Re'an had done to him as an excuse for his mistakes. He was still Jim Kirk, wasn't he? Jim Kirk, who inherently had known better but, ironically, had turned a blind eye.

Jim's thoughts suddenly tumbled when Spock barred his view of his mother, the petite blond woman he wanted to see yet didn't want to see. Almost helpless to the urge, his eyes searched beyond the Vulcan's shoulder. It was a futile effort. Spock led his mother, whom he still loved in spite of his own good sense, out the doors of the lounge. She'd pleaded, behaving more like a mother than a spy. He'd stood firm, reacting more like a captain than a son. He refused to listen to her excuses because the more he thought about it, the more conflicted he became and the guiltier he felt. By ordering her off of the Enterprise, had he thrown the good that she'd done protecting him, including saving his life on that ship when he was a teen, right back in her face?

 _Spock?_ Had he?

_No._

_But..._

_No. You cannot equate the one incident with the other. Do not think of that again, Captain._

After Spock's adamant reply, the Vulcan replayed Winona's betrayal, the reminder echoing and crushing those feelings of guilt and doubt once more. So Jim stood like the captain he was, thanks to his CMO's signature and approval, with his feet permanently fixed to the floor and eyes opened wider than he really wanted them to be. This was big. This may be bigger than he could handle alone but he could handle his mother and his own ship, and that was where he was going to begin. He'd give her some time before heading out of the lounge himself. She'd first collect her things and then leave the _Enterprise_ in an unhurried manner. He'd give her time in order to retain a sense normalcy on his ship when things were far, far from being normal at all.

 _Spock, she'll try to convince you that she needs to talk with me one last time._ Jim paused _. I won't. Not today._

Tomorrow was a different story. If things went as planned, he'd discover just where Winona Kirk drew the line. And if Jim's suspicions were correct, Commander Kirk was headed back into the belly of the very ship which held more of her secrets.

_I will respond accordingly on your behalf, Captain._

The door to the lounge closed with finality but it was far from over. This was only the beginning, and they had to be ready. Eyes bored into him, but Jim stood for another wordless moment to collect both his thoughts and his wits. He expected Bones to begin his query at any minute but, frankly, Jim didn't have the time to spare to share his feelings about his mother. Another shitstorm had hit him right as he'd barely recovered from the first disaster. It was that which demanded his attention but he was driven more than he'd ever remembered himself being. He'd have no problem devoting himself to the task at hand for his nerves were on end and his instincts primed, perhaps even heightened as they pulsed at a rate he couldn't ignore.

The confrontation had simply pushed him over an edge. It was a cliff that Jim had seen from a distance, a dangerous, sharp drop off that had been calling to him for some time. He didn't have an explanation for it but he knew beyond a shadow of doubt that his passiveness was a thing of the past. There was no going back. Although he remained Re'an and still held onto an almost minuscule part of that peaceful, idyllic life, that idea been reduced to a distant dream. The burn Jim had for protecting his friends and crew kicked the passivity to the ground, and throwing his mother off of his ship had been the first step. Now realizing the full potential of his confidence and abilities, Jim's thinking changed. He could handle this, especially with the best damn crew by his side.

"How did you know that Captain Roark had already been his way, Jim?" McCoy asked, brushing his shoulders as he came beside him.

Jim stared straight ahead as he had for the past two minutes. Trying to ignore the sound of a tricorder checking his vitals, he said in a dead tone, "I didn't, it was a bluff."

His mother's subdued reaction had confirmed it, and Jim assumed that other crewmembers of the _Isis_ weren't innocent in all of this, either.

"Let's hope they don't call you on it," McCoy muttered. "Or your other bluff, the one about Archer."

"They won't," Jim said with complete confidence. "Because at least one of them will know that it wasn't a bluff."

The one probably being his mother.

"You're really going to talk to Archer about your mom? This spy ring?"

Jim glanced sideways at Bones. "There are a few ways this could go if I tell Archer."

"And those are?"

"More than likely, Archer will do what I want to do and let this simmer awhile, making them uneasy as I go about this my way," Jim said. McCoy arched a questioning brow at 'my way.' Jim shrugged. He hadn't meant for it to seem as egotistical as it sounded. Far from it, actually, since he was going to call a meeting for his senior command crew. But, he believed that his way was the best way and he wanted to remain in control to make sure that nothing else was screwed up. "Or, he will inform a few trusted Admiral buddies and find that maybe they weren't so trusted after all."

"Shit," Bones said under his breath.

"Though unlikely, he could also choose to respond aggressively and gather us all for a..." Jim trailed off, feeling like he was creeping out of his own skin and looking back on Daystrom, Pike, and the warp core, and all the devastation that followed. Stomach nearly rolling, he forced himself to glance at Bones, and by the look on the doctor's face, it was a good thing that Jim had stopped talking when he did.

They were venturing into a place that was too damn familiar for the both of them, and there was no way in hell Jim would allow that to happen for a second time. He wouldn't take that kind of chance, all in the name of trying to find out if his mother was a terrorist or if she wasn't, any enemy within Starfleet that may find the time opportune to attack. At the very least, it would set Starfleet up for another fall, calling attention to these darker sides of the Federation that Jim, in his naivety, assumed had been decimated after and along with Marcus.

Jim headed for the exit. "Archer won't tell anyone else. At least, not right away," he tossed back to the doctor. "It's too precarious, Bones. This requires deliberation."

"So that's it, then," Bones said, following him. "You're going to assume that he's going to proceed with extreme caution after you tell him about your mother."

"No, that's not what I'm going to do. We're going to continue being explorers. That's what my crew signed up to do - it's why we are all here - and this isn't going to change things."

Bones was quiet for a moment, then said, "You're confusing me, kid."

"Bones, I'm not going to tell Archer."

"Why the hell not? I think we need a friend in a high place right now, someone that knows what happened here, and Archer is a friend, Jim," the doctor said, a voice of reason Jim always appreciated but this was _his_ territory. Jim wasn't sure how to explain it, but he felt it in his bones, that finally something in him had congealed into something that was altered from the sum of the parts that had gone in; a calmer, more confident person than he had ever been prior to the Re'an. He saw a new maturity in himself and felt more than ready to be the best Captain he could be.

The door of the lounge opened and, with it, the opportunity to deflect an answer to the question that Jim had no intention of answering at the present time. He strode down the corridor, the doctor on his tail as headed for the one place where he could think. "I'll be on the bridge, Bones. Expect a meeting for command staff as soon as I check on a few things."

Like what the hell the _Isis_ has been doing the past two decades. His mother had spent a total of ten years under Roark's direct command as his first officer, and a few months ago she'd been transferred. Jim suspected that she may have come aboard the Isis unofficially for more than that ten years. And he wanted to know. All of it.

Gathering and reading that information would require more time than he could spare before the meeting, but it would be a start, and he would designate the rest of the work. He needed the names of the crew and the patterns of their missions. He wanted to know exactly who they were dealing with. He didn't believe all of them were in on it, but he could not ignore his gut feeling that the ship was being used as a tool. He only hoped the ship wasn't a weapon.

Jim picked up his pace.

"Jim, we need to talk about what just happened in the lounge with your mother," McCoy said, frustration evident in his voice.

"Bones, we can talk more later, but it's imperative that I speak with everyone before Captain Roark contacts us," Jim said quickly, knowing damn well the captain would comm him after Winona returned to the _Isis_. If not this very hour, then first thing tomorrow. "And the only way I can do that is to keep moving."

Planting numerous individuals of spy ring onto one single ship to run was bold, but Jim wouldn't put it past whoever had begun this thing to have done just that, because they were clever. They also weren't afraid to use Jim's emotions or that of one of their own. They were clever and wanting something from Jim, maybe even something beyond this knowledge about the Re'an's dilithium reserves.

Pitting his mother against him was a sure sign of it. Now on the other side of the confrontation, he began to think that their interaction had not been a coincidence or based solely on the mother and son dynamic. With that in mind, Jim didn't want to talk to Roark unless he had something else to use to bluff his way through the conversation.

A hand on his arm stopped him in his tracks. "Jim," Bones said in a low voice. "Look at me."

Jim closed his eyes and suppressed a frustrated sigh. Bones was only trying to do his job, and Jim was making it harder for him to do so - but every second mattered. "Bones, I'm fine. I know you're worried, but I'm fine...and... " Jim hesitated. Why wouldn't he be? Just because his mother had used his love and forgiveness in her attempt to gain intel didn't mean that he wasn't fine.

It meant that he was irrevocably _wrecked_.

Something closer to hysteria threatened as he realized that Spock had pulled away even more from him, Jim assumed that Spock was initiating his shields while dealing with Winona, but need for the bond between them jolted through his mind. Jim rebelled against the emotional reaction. He was stronger than he had been even one day ago. He was resilient despite the Re'an. He could do this because he was captain of the _Enterprise_. If Spock needed to shield himself, then Jim wasn't going to whine about it. He curbed his emotions once more and clamped his own mouth shut.

"Look at me, Jim." Bones' hand rested on his shoulder, fixing him in place.

Jim glanced down the corridor Spock would have taken with his mother, tension filling his shoulders as he envisioned the blonde woman holding herself together with her own inner strength. Jim wanted to believe that his mother's turmoil was all an act, but Elise had confirmed that it wasn't. It left Jim even more enraged that his mother could both love and use him at the same time. It would've been far better - easier - had this been a ruse altogether. "I really can't stop right now, Bones."

"Yes, you can."

"Bones, I have to go."

Familiar hands halted his reply and guided him closer to the doctor, the pads of the other man's fingers pulling his chin up. "Jim, if you don't look at me, you will leave me no choice but to declare you unfit for command again. And, truth be told, I don't really want to do that. This is you, kid. This is who you're meant to be and after everything you've gone through, you're more than capable of handling this. We need you to be at your best and I need to see that you can manage with my own eyes. Look at me, Jim."

If it had been anything other than the plea of a Southern doctor, Jim told himself he wouldn't have listened. The soft drawl beckoned, and he lifted his eyes to find his best friend peering right at him - and straight at the hurt.

Bones' hazel eyes warmed. "There you are, captain. Fortunately, for you and everyone else on this ship, I am the only one who can determine if the captain of the _Enterprise_ is actually as fine as he says or not."

"I know you don't believe me but I'm fine, Bones," Jim explained, hoping the doctor wouldn't hold him hostage until he talked about Winona's betrayal. He couldn't waste a single minute, especially one on himself. "You know this is big, and I don't have the luxury to put my personal issues first."

"I know your head is in the game but I also know that you're hurtin'. Your eyes are a window to your soul these days, pal."

 _His eyes._ Jim winced. "I know," he said, when, of course, he really didn't know. He'd have to look into his own eyes and face to see what Bones saw.

That was something Jim had no intention of doing. Maybe not for a very long, long time.

Bones' expression softened, and it was just like his best friend when he continued as if Jim had said all of that aloud. "Just as long as you can admit that without trying to sweep it under the rug, Jim. You just let me know when you've decided to return to your quarters after the debriefing. I'll be right behind ya."

The unspoken crossed between them. Jim nodded and unconsciously lifted a hand to one of his eyes, his index finger rubbing along the ridged, pinked skin that the doctor wanted to heal.

* * *

 

Captain Roark was in the transporter room as she expected. Winona didn't say a word as she stepped off the platform and onto the _Isis_. Her heart had cracked. She didn't want to admit to its breaking, yet she followed the captain quietly to the ready room as if her time on the _Enterprise_ had been a regular mission. He waited until the door closed behind them before turning slowly and sinking into the chair at the desk with ease. He indicated with his head towards the other chair in the room and Winona was more than happy to oblige. The confrontation with Jim had left her unsteady and it had taken all her control to leave with her head on straight.

"Captain Roark, I assume you heard from him," Winona asked, the knot in the pit of her stomach certainly not anxiety.

"Red Tail is not altogether too pleased with you. This small assignment almost ended in disaster."

Winona suppressed her anger although she had every right not to. In her opinion, it had ended in disaster. She regretted the broken connection she'd had with Jim and she wondered if she'd ever be able to try to rebuild that bridge between them. "He sent me to my son, Roark. My blind son, who obviously remembers nothing. You had to know it wouldn't end well."

"As I recall, your son is no longer blind, and you should have been more careful."

"I used all of my control but his healer is a Betazoid. It was impossible to suppress my thoughts entirely. Red Tail should have known this." She inhaled a sharp breath. Shooting him a dark look, her heart clenched so tightly she couldn't breathe. "He knew this would happen. He wanted Jim to know what I am ..." Her voice broke off as she found herself completely baffled that Red Tail had done this to her. To _Jim_. "Why?"

"You know I can't say. Red Tail prefers secrecy in this."

"Or, you yourself may not know," she gritted. "What do we do from here? Jim is not going to speak with me again. He washed his hands of me for now and because he doesn't know the truth about us, about Project Raptor, he's going to tell someone about this, more than likely Archer. We're in trouble."

"He's bluffing," Roark tapped his fingers in staccato along the desk. "He won't tell your dear good friend Admiral Archer because he doesn't want to chance this thing getting as big as the fiasco with Marcus and see his mother going down with it."

"No, he's not bluffing," Winona shook her head adamantly. "He will contact Archer because the Jim Kirk who we used to know is gone. His moral compass has changed, even more than it did after Pike died."

And after Jim had died. Winona's heartache knew no limits and had she not wanted to know what Red Tail was up to, she would have yelled in Roark's face to leave her alone and then headed for her quarters to piteously dwell on her life, instead. Only she couldn't because Red Tail only spoke to two members of Project Raptor, their organization headed by Red Tail, himself. She wasn't one of them, but Roark was. As ridiculous as it sounded, she didn't even know Red Tail's true identity, yet she had trusted him until this very moment. He'd proved his trustworthiness to her a long time ago. But now? Could she still give her life for this? It was for Jim's sake, but it had hurt him just the same. But, how could she not continue?

Roark peered at her, his fingers forming a triangle as he leaned his elbows on the desk. "You said he's changed otherwise."

Winona tucked her hair behind her ears and pulled out her PADD, quickly finding the image she wanted. She pushed the device towards Roark hoping it would suffice and squelch the captain's curiosity.

Roark's right eye twitched as he stared at the screen and the holo of her son, a dark-haired, slightly thinner, scarred Captain Kirk that she'd taken when Jim had been unaware. "Fascinating. He's no longer the golden, poster boy of Starfleet." His words were flippant but nothing about the way his eyes perused her was casual. She realized he'd caught the pain she felt hearing that about her son. "He has been through a great deal of trauma. He is a different man beyond this altered moral compass, isn't he? Jaded, perhaps? Especially after his mother betrayed him?"

Her anger surged. She shot to her feet, grinding her teeth in her refusal to answer the loaded question. She was glad she'd been transferred from this ship. This little visit had shown her to count her blessings, and this was one of them. Being out from under Captain Roark's wing on the _Isis_ for the past six months. She'd kiss Archer's feet the next time she saw him. She was that damn pleased that she would get to leave Roark behind. Roark, a man four years her junior who managed to somehow ignite a more youthful fire in her, was easy on the eyes but that wasn't what struck her nor what irritated her. It was his intelligence and charisma. His ability to blend in while doing exactly what Red Tail told him to do and with a cold, detached heart when needed. He also was very kind when he wanted to be kind, but when he wanted to be an ass, he was a complete son of a bitch. His temperament infuriated her at times. It was like ice and fire. It was why she never called attention to this ship while staying on the _Enterprise_ , never mentioning it nor its captain. She'd wanted to distance herself from her reality as much as possible, which wasn't nearly enough distance at all in her opinion, and focus on the limited time she'd had with her son.

"At ease, Commander. This has affected you more than I expected," Roark frowned at her. "Be careful that the love you hold for your son does not cloud your judgement here."

"He won't want to see me." She opted to ignore Roark's timely admonishment.

"I'll give him time to cool off, because I imagine if he's anything like you, he will hold on to that affection even if it hurts him."

"What does Red Tail want from me?" She whispered. He'd promised her that he wouldn't drag Jim into Project Raptor. He'd kept to his promise so far. But, that was then, years before so many, many things had happened to Jim.

"Red Tail wants to know what happened. All of it," Roark stretched his legs out as he leaned back in his chair, putting more distance between them, she mused. It helped calm her and she returned to her own chair. "And in particular, James T. Kirk's transformation into this darker version of himself."

"He isn't who he once was." Winona swallowed, taking the device back in her hands. Her fingers traced her son's face. "He's beyond that. He's...he is more, Roark. He's more assured, more..." A fine young man who would have made his father proud. Soft-hearted because of the Re'an but somehow fiercer. Happy yet also sad. Determined and loyal but oblivious to many things about himself. "He's just more. I suppose you would say he's aged twenty years, if just to say that he gained the experience. He will stop at nothing to protect his crew as before. That much I do know."

He leaned forward. "And?"

Winona sighed and finally said the words he'd been waiting to hear. "Yes," she admitted. "Underneath the peaceful Re'an part of him is a will of steel and a level of passion that wasn't there before. He is darker."

"He did just throw you off his ship." Roark grinned, looking pleased with himself. "This news may satisfy Red Tail after all."

Her heart dropped as she caught the implication. "You're going to contact the _Enterprise_ , aren't you?" She asked.

"Red Tail informed me that we must reveal the bare bones of Project Raptor to Kirk to stop him from telling anyone other than his senior command staff, and we shall be more forthright as he requested." Roark paused. "You'll come with me, of course. I'll request to be briefed on the current, shared mission within the Thriuna star system."

"The cover you chose works well," Winona said absently. "It's almost too perfect to be merely a coincidence."

"It does seem a little odd that Archer has given us a mission that the _Enterprise_ is clearly capable of completing. I suppose the old man wanted to make sure no one would question his decision to allow you to see your son or begin to wonder about the other favors he's supplied for you over the years." Roark grinned again at her. "Perhaps he'll grant you your deepest desire and allow you to return to me. To the _Isis_ where you belong."

"I wouldn't know," Winona clipped and checked the chronometer. It had been a long day, especially with that statement now ringing in her ears, and it wasn't even halfway over. "If that is all, sir, I will head for my quarters."

"Yes, that is all for now, Commander," Roark said in a cheerful tone. "Until I talk to Kirk."

"Very well, Captain Roark," Winona said. She turned to leave.

"Wait," Roark commanded. She hesitated with her back turned to him, her bottom lip wedged between her teeth, anxious to be alone in her quarters where she could lick her wounds. "Will you be following through as planned?"

Winona breathed a sigh of relief that this was all he wanted. Plotting revenge, she could handle. Discussing Jim's changes from the son she'd known to this new one was a different story. "If I can get word to him somehow, yes."

"Wait until after our little visit on the _Enterprise_ ," he said. She could just imagine his Cheshire-like grin. "I'm sure we can manage even better with the two of us."

"Yes, sir."

"Win, is your son's pet as magnificent as you really say it is?" Roark asked casually.

"It is," she said tightly.

"It better be," he murmured.

"Yes, sir," Winona said and strode from the room. She didn't look back.

Except for when she stepped into her quarters and leaned her back against the door behind her, wishing she had told Jim the entire truth, Red Tail be damned.

* * *

 

"If this gets any bigger," Jim said, looking at his senior command staff, one by one, "I will reconsider keeping the rest of the crew in the dark, especially if their safety is at risk. I will not keep that information to myself. I trust my crew completely, and if I didn't, I shouldn't be sitting in this chair. I also understand that I may need to regain their trust now...now that I'm different," Jim finished, almost in a murmur. His eyes flickered down to his hands, mulling over everything he said to them the past twenty minutes and the questions he'd answered for them. They'd been solemn as he'd expected but quiet as he designated various reports that required meticulous study before Roark contacted the _Enterprise_. Almost too quiet. "I believe this may be the best way to regain that trust."

"Your alteration does not give them any reason to distrust you, Captain," Spock said.

"I appreciate that, Mr. Spock, but if the changes I've undergone have bothered even my closest of friends," Jim explained, sparing a glance at Bones, "then I must expect a similar reaction from those who are under my command. I am not the same man that I was before Re'an V."

 _Not the same man_...and it wasn't that just his personality that was different, as he would soon understand for himself. Jim fought a sigh. Other than for seeing Sam, he had no other reason to look forward to returning to his quarters. He also didn't know if he really wanted Bones to be there when he looked at himself for the first time since Re'an V. Even the thought of using the mirror felt self-serving and adding to his distress was the fact that this was an issue for him at all. Who gave a shit about his appearance when there was so much at stake. He glanced up when silence of the room finally hit him and saw all eyes locked on him. Jim cleared his throat.

"To be completely honest with you, I'm still figuring out who exactly that other captain was. But in order to move on, I can't dwell on him, especially with this situation at hand and your lives possibly at risk." Jim stopped when Sulu frowned. "Mr. Sulu? Is there something you wish to say?"

"Sir, if I may speak freely?" Sulu asked.

It was the first time that Sulu had spoken since stepping foot in the conference room, and knowing that, Jim was more than willing to hear what he had to say. "Go ahead, Lieutenant."

"With all due respect, sir, you are right. You are not the same man. You are not the captain we signed up to follow for the next five years," Sulu said. "But you've given us an opportunity to speak with you and to observe you, and it has been enough. Your CMO has approved you for duty and Mr. Spock has returned to his position as your first, and it is enough. You may not be the same man, but you never lost the qualities that made you captain. In fact, if I may be blunt, sir, I don't believe that I have ever witnessed this level of confidence in you before or the ease and control you have now in handling a complicated and precarious situation that would have otherwise overwhelmed anyone else in your shoes. For these reasons, captain, there is nothing else to prove. We trust you, and if you decide that it is best to keep us in the dark, we'll trust you then, too."

Sulu paused when Chekov grew a brilliant smile. "Mr. Sulu speaks for us all, keptin. Ve'll do vat you ask of us, no questions asked."

Jim sank back into his chair, almost dazed by Sulu's short but extremely significant speech and Chekov's eagerness. "I hardly know what to say."

"Ye dinnae have to say anything, sir," Scotty said. "And ye dinnae have any cause to worry, not even a wee bit about your place as cap'n."

Scotty's second and insightful comment caught Jim completely off guard. "I...Scotty..."

"Aye, cap'n," Scotty said. "I ken the wheels that are turnin' in your head. Ye think that if we doubt that ye can run your own ship as this new man you've become that ye will lose your sense of command. An' ye think that if that happens and ye cannae command her like ye used to, then ye may have to give up your Lady to someone else. Captain, I dinnae want to say it to ye, but I will. Ye cannae think that way, sir."

Uhura inhaled sharply. All eyes turned to her. "If I may also have a word, sir," she asked.

"Of course, lieutenant." Jim nodded.

"Mr. Scott's right, captain. You don't need to worry. We do understand," Uhura continued. "There's no question that you are capable of running this ship as before; you don't need to worry that we will become lax in our duties or have difficulty serving under you. We trust you, sir, and in turn, you can continue to have faith in us."

Jim narrowed his eyes. "You trust me...still?"

"Yes, sir," Uhura said. "There is no question."

Jim leaned forward as the worst possible scenario came to his mind, one where he was forced to make a single, harrowing choice on his own. A choice that would pull his crew into the mess Winona described as being a balance of powers. His gaze pierced them each to their seats but his eyes first rested on Spock. "Knowing all of that, it helps me come to a conclusion of my own. A question, actually, and one of extreme importance. If it comes to the point that I must tell you absolutely nothing of what I may learn about this spy ring, will you trust me?"

"Yes, captain," Spock nodded.

"Bones?" Jim asked. "You'll do what I ask?"

"You won't have to ask twice."

They all chimed in but when silence fell, an anxious energy coursed through Jim. He stood to his feet. "Then, let's get to work."

* * *

 

Sometime around the fourth hour, a cup of coffee miraculously appeared on the table beside his stack of PADDS. Jim stared at it dumbly, seeing an odd mixture of dates and places instead and hearing the words of his mother as she'd defended herself. Chekov sat beside him, helping him chart the patterns of those details, and Spock and Dr. Marcus shared a similar task at the opposite end of the table.

A rich aroma wafted right under his nose.

"Coffee?" Jim asked, voice rough from disuse. It smelled heavenly and pushed away everything else like a hand parting a heavy curtain. Jim blinked his eyes, then squinted as the lights above the doctor's head hit him at an odd angle. He lifted his hand and almost groaned when the beginnings of a headache pulsed right behind his eyes.

Bones' mouth turned down at him. "Computer. Lights at fifty percent. Jim, I think you may need to take a break soon. But, yes, it's coffee, but no one, not even you, can enjoy a cup of coffee just staring at it, kid. Drink up," Bones urged. "You need to eat, too."

The tray of food Bones placed on the table, steaming hot and looking more than satisfying even though he didn't know what the meat was. It was tempting, but Jim didn't think he could even spare five minutes to eat.

"I ordered a little while ago for you," Bones said. "I heard that you didn't take a break with the rest of your crew, a break that you yourself ordered them to take. You might as well take one now while the food is hot. Your eyes may be becoming strained at this point, and I don't think you want a headache or low blood sugar with all of this ahead of you."

"I will. Thanks, Bones." Jim immediately took the mug in his hand and paused for one bite to appease his doctor.

He was tempted to chug the entire cup of coffee down in a single gulp, since he had skipped lunch as Bones inferred, but decided to work at it slowly and ward off his own hunger. He just couldn't stop. Spock worked just as determinedly sorting through the first ten years Roark commanded the _Isis_ , while Jim had begun with the ten years his mother served as Roark's first officer. He'd almost reached the halfway point, and while at this time he couldn't find anything in particular that was a red flag or some indicator of their shadow activities, he knew something was there. It had to be.

"Jim," Bones warned. "Eat."

Jim stabbed something off of his plate with his fork. "Chekov. Anything yet?" He asked before chewing.

"No, keptin."

"There's practically nothing on that fork, Jim," Bones said. "Stop eating like a chicken."

Jim swallowed. "Like a chicken?" Jim repeated, confused - and more than a little upset with himself. He was doing much better at recognizing things that sounded abnormal to his ears and figuring them out on his own, but this one confused the hell out of him. He'd heard the word 'chicken' once or twice before, but there'd been no context to help him out then, either, and he hadn't bothered to ask anyone or look it up himself. As he faced a moment of ignorance, he realized his stupidity in that decision. "What the hell does that even mean?'

"They eat very small pieces, Jim, with their beaks. They peck at their food," Bones crossed his arms. "Like you're doing now."

Jim twisted his bottom lip between his teeth, unsure how to tell Bones that it wasn't just that he didn't understand how chickens ate. He really didn't have a damn clue what Bones was talking about at all. Jim glanced down at the device in front of him, hoping Bones would forget about the chickens and move on.

Bones made a noncommittal sound in his throat. "Wait a minute..."

"Hmm?" Jim said, tapping his finger on the device.

"Chickens, Jim."

"What about them?" Jim winced. Bones really wasn't going to let this go.

"What are they, Jim?" Bones asked quietly.

"Bones, let's talk about this later."

"You don't know what they are," Bones stated, words void of any easy drawl. "You, farm boy from Iowa...and no damn chickens are running through your brain?"

Jim had no good answer for that one, and he shouldn't have looked up at his crew. Especially at Uhura, whose expression had cracked and eyes showed an unguarded sadness. "I...uh..." Jim coughed and twisted his gaze away from the five pairs of eyes inspecting him from around the table. "Uh...well...no?"

Bones exhaled a long, rough breath.

Jim dared a peek at his very concerned, very upset friend. "Don't feel bad about it, Bones. Please? Let's forget it and move on. We have work to do." He paused. "Things bigger than chickens, I imagine?"

"Indeed, Jim, the _Isis_ is considerably larger than the diminutive, Terran farm animal known as the chicken," Spock said.

Jim offered his smiling crew a lopsided grin before glancing back up at Bones. "Bones, I'll be fine, especially since everyone can laugh about it, even me. But, I really do have to get back to work."

"I know that there are pressing matters at hand, Jim, and I'll forget about it for now," Bones said quietly. "I have to stop in sickbay now and I can't worry about you not eating, alright? Will you promise me that you'll eat?"

Jim rubbed at an eye, already in the midst a yawn that came out of nowhere.

"Yeah, there's something else that I have to worry about, too," Bones said with a scowl. "I think everything that happened since this morning is finally catching up to you."

"It's fine," Jim said, words muffled behind his hand. "There's nothing to worry about, either. It's just a yawn."

"Did you even hear what I said?"

"Bones, I'm fine," Jim repeated honestly. "It's nothing."

Bones expelled a long breath. "Jim, you played an intense game of chess while blind, regaining your sight in the process through a strenuous meld. You discovered that your mother was using you and the love you have for her to gain intel about the Re'an. You confronted her, also discovering that there's a secret organization within Starfleet that may be after you and your crew. Not to mention that you kicked your own mother off of your ship and are now preparing yourself for even more conflict when you haven't been on duty in two months!" Bones argued. His eyes glazed over with worry. "And you're telling me that it's nothing?"

"Bones, it's o-"

"There's something coming, Jim, and you know it," Bones insisted. "But you're hungry and exhausted, two things that will limit you in every way when that something is finally here. Not to mention that you're somehow holding your hurt at arm's length. You can't act like it's nothing, Jim!"

By the end of Bones' rant, the tension in the room was so thick that Jim found it difficult to swallow or move, for that matter. He'd have to say exactly the right thing to Bones to stop this from escalating any further. The good news was that, although Jim was different, he still understood Dr. Leonard Horatio McCoy.

"Yes, I am telling you that it's nothing," Jim said slowly. "Bones, I know this thing with the chickens has upset you, and rightly so. If it were you forgetting about some damn farm animal after all we've been through, I think I'd go punch a wall and then make a poster of a chicken for you and stick it on the wall of your quarters, covering the hole, well, holes, actually, that I had punched."

Bones flinched.

Jim sighed, choosing his next words even more carefully. "Listen. Bones, you're angry right now, but you're only angry that I can't remember anything about chickens because it reminds you of everything the Re'an did to me and the rest of the stuff you're yelling at me about just came along for the ride because you know these things happen around here. Challenges. And right now there are a lot of them, but I'm okay and I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure that my crew is okay," Jim peered up at his friend, speaking quietly, "Bones, I am tired. I'm a tired farm boy from Iowa who doesn't remember chickens but I do remember how to be a captain. I was trained to be a captain, and I can handle these things because I am your captain. I will also listen to you because your concerns are valid. Bones, I promise that as soon as Roark contacts the Enterprise I will make my best effort to return to my quarters."

Bones stared at him for a moment. Jim stared back, waiting for his best friend to come to his senses. If there was anything telling him that Bones needed a break, that the doctor had reached his own limits, it was this struggle he had with the damn chickens. Jim would do whatever he could to stop it from getting worse. He'd do absolutely anything Bones asked him to do just to make it easier on the doctor.

"As soon as you hear from Roark, you're going to your quarters to sleep?" Bones finally said.

"Yes," Jim nodded, and although he wasn't sure he really wanted anyone accompanying him, he gave Bones the option. "You can come with me if you really want."

"And will you also eat?" Bones asked, voice strained.

"Yes, I will," Jim assured him but saw that his words failed miserably in actually reassuring the doctor.

"I'd feel better staying."

"Dr. McCoy, I will contact you when I see that the captain is finished partaking of his meal," Spock said. "I am also aware of his limited stamina and will direct him to his quarters once we receive the expected communication from Captain Roark."

To Jim's surprise, the Vulcan's statement reached Bones in a way that Jim couldn't.

"Alright," Bones' voice softened.

"Go to sickbay. That's an order, Dr. McCoy," Jim said firmly. "You have your duties. I have mine... and I also have Spock watching out for me today. I'll be fine."

"I know you will be," Bones replied. He stepped closer to Jim, looking uneasy for a split second before his hand reached and gripped Jim's shoulder. "I'll go. Let me know if you need anything, but I will send Christine with something for that headache."

Jim didn't think he'd ever get tired of the way Bones comforted him with a squeeze on the shoulder or a ruffling of his hair. Those touches meant more to him than a million spoken words, but they also told Jim more about Bones' state of mind than anything else. To Jim's relief, the scowl had also disappeared from Bones' face, replaced with a solemn look that he gave Jim before he left. Although it wasn't a smile, it wasn't the frown as before and much better than seeing his friend angry at the world. Still, Jim had a feeling that once he returned to his quarters, the two of them would have to talk.

As soon as the door closed after Bones, Jim caught Spock's attention. "Thank you," he said simply. Not knowing what else to say about the friend who clearly needed a break from his duties, Jim fell silent.

_Your sight returning today is quite timely, Jim. I believe it is what relieves the doctor of his greatest worry but he continues to bear the burdens of your health. It would be wise to follow his request to partake of sustenance and also to return to your quarters to rest as soon as possible._

_Okay, okay, I'm eating, h_ e told Spock, already picking up his next bite. As soon as he realized he was actually hungry, he couldn't stop shoveling the food into his mouth. What had he been thinking putting this off?

_Jim, the food will not walk off of your plate._

Jim barely restrained a snort.

_It is wise of the doctor to continue to be concerned about your eating habits, Jim._

Jim frowned, fork pausing mid-air. It wasn't anything he did on purpose but it was something he did need to learn to control himself. Somehow. It was a strain on Bones and no matter how hard Jim tried to reassure the doctor, McCoy sometimes just wouldn't let it go. Jim couldn't help but think that Bones would continue to exchange one thing to worry about in regards to Jim with another. Maybe it wasn't even about eating. Maybe it was about...

_It is not my intentions to distress you or cause you to illogically analyze the doctor's ministrations at this precarious time, Jim. I see that you are in need of Dr. McCoy's assistance on a daily basis. I, too, would be able to assist you for your difficulty is a valid medical concern_

Jim chewed his next bite slowly, savoring it as also savored Spock's offer. It filled him with unexpected warmth from head to toe that what Spock suggested would ultimately benefit Bones, as well. _Could we start tomorrow? If you have a plan, that is?_

_Indeed, we can._

Jim finished his food within minutes and soon lost himself again in the research. He leaned his chin on his hand, determined to look at the _Isis_ ' missions in a different light, especially at those which occurred during the months leading up to the _Vengeance's_ devastation upon San Francisco. There had to be something he could connect, something he could use when he talked with Roark. Minutes went by swiftly as Jim read the logs and conversed with the crew at various intervals. He gulped down the remainder of his coffee and nearly choked when he saw it in Captain Roark's logs.

_We are ahead of schedule, which may have drawn Admiral Marcus' attention. He has requested that the Isis alter its route and pick up four scientists stationed at Starbase 5. We are to provide them transport to the base nearest Jupiter, which, to my knowledge, has been recently renovated and opened for operation this past month._

Sitting on the edge of his seat, Jim cleared his throat. "There," Jim said to Chekov. He pointed and the Russian quickly pulled up any related reports. The _Isis_ provided transport a number of times, but this is the only one with any connection to Marcus. The base they took the scientists to had not been the main site for the Vengeance, but it didn't matter; it was close enough.

"I see nothing else, sir," Chekov apologized.

Jim wasn't going to allow the trail to stop cold. They were close. He could smell it. He quickly checked the database again for more information about the transport, but there was no mention of another transport or the scientists in any other report or log after this date. It was as if the scientists no longer even existed. "This is it," he muttered under his breath. He glanced at Chekov. "Let's run a check on just the names."

Chekov refined his search. Jim held his breath as the computer came back with inconclusive information about the four men and women. "Damn," Jim ran a hand over his face as he stared at the word, 'Classified.' He'd never let that stop him before and he wouldn't let it now. Without a second thought, he pulled out a device of his own that he kept under lock and key. It wouldn't do for anyone to discover this particular law-breaking program he'd created.

Chekov's eyes widened. "Keptin..."

Jim continued the all-too familiar process of hacking into Starfleet. "Chekov, it's untraceable. It won't come back to me or any of you. It'll be fine."

"You have done zis before, keptin?"

"Many times, Chekov," Jim admitted.

It took a few more minutes but soon they were both taking in the continued trail on a classified level. Jim sank back in his seat and blew out a slow breath. Chekov cursed under his breath in Russian. Three of the four scientists had died or gone missing within a period of twelve months. The first scientist succumbed to work related injuries, the second died of natural causes, and the third scientist was missing. A brief case had been opened for each scientist, all of which were then closed by Admiral Marcus himself. Interestingly, Archer also closed the cases of these three scientists after they were reopened briefly after Marcus' death.

"Dr. Marcus," Jim said. He selected the names only, copied them, and sent them to her directly.

"Yes, Captain."

"Look at the list I sent you and see if any jog your memory." Jim said, watching as she glanced down at her PADD. "You saw the blueprints for the _Vengeance_ , and I imagine that you got a glimpse of a few names, maybe of the scientists who worked with your father."

Her eyes already flickered with acknowledgement. "I managed to see a few names, yes."

"Do any ring a bell?"

"Three," she said, eyes boring into the PADD. "Only three of the four."

Jim was certain he knew which three. "Avi, S'reske, and Hewett?"

"Yes," she said.

"Can you tell me a little about them?"

"Although all three generally keep to themselves, immersing themselves in their work, I actually met Dr. S'reske once at a conference. He's a fine man. No family. I know he holds Dr. Hewett in high regard, having worked with her for well over a decade. I don't think she has family, either. Dr. Avi is much the same, but is known to be even less cordial while he works on any of his projects."

"Wasn't known," Jim murmured.

"Sir?" Carol's brow furrowed.

"All three were either dead or missing within twelve months of that supposed transport." Jim said with finality, believing that Marcus then delivered the scientists directly to the site of the _Vengeance_ secretly.

"That explains why they've been so quiet in the field," Carol murmured.

A crack in Jim's heart began to repair at the very real possibility that his mother was actually working on behalf of Starfleet. "Spock, any good possibility that at least one of them were moles? Or were talked into being one during their transport? I bet my next cup of coffee that Marcus somehow got wind of a traitor."

"If I base my calculation on Commander Kirk's initial description of this organization, yes," Spock said. "It is logical to believe that Roark knew of Marcus' endeavors with the Vengeance and other projects, including weaponry, and attempted to recruit one or all of these three scientists during their transport to the base. It is also logical that at least one of them was already working on behalf of the organization. Captain, at this time we cannot determine the depths of this organization secrets, but it has already been determined they use tactics that Starfleet does not necessarily condone. We must remain aware of this as we proceed."

In other words, they did what they had to do to further their cause, as Jim himself would do anything to protect his ship and crew. It also meant that they were dangerous. "Duly noted, Mr. Spock." Jim nodded in agreement.

_"Bridge to Captain Kirk."_

"Kirk here." Jim exchanged a look with Spock.

_"Sir, we've received a transmission from Captain Roark of the Isis, requesting to speak with you."_

"Patch him through," Jim said without hesitation.

* * *

 

McCoy rubbed both of his hands on his face. He'd finally caught up with the last of his paperwork and also managed to see his own patients today instead of M'Benga covering for him. Jim had pushed McCoy away from him with good reason. Time mostly spent on his own turf had served him well today. He'd needed to cool off about the chickens, not that he was ready to admit his ranting had been about farm animals, but Jim had been right again. McCoy's anger went deeper than farm animals. The two chickens, Miss Hoshi and Buster, had merely been the catalysts, the ugly reminders of what McCoy wanted them all - especially Jim - to forget.

"Doctor McCoy, may I have a moment of your time?"

McCoy glanced up sharply to see Spock in the doorway to his office. He'd not even realized the knock on the door. "You're here, aren't you? Might as well come in all the way."

Spock entered and clasped his hands behind his back. "I wanted to inform you that the captain to spoke to Captain Roark approximately one hour ago."

McCoy frowned. He should've heard from Jim, then, and accompanied him to his quarters. "And?"

"The conversation went as our captain expected."

McCoy felt an instant sense of pride that Jim, this Jim, had called it correctly. "Roark's coming aboard the _Enterprise_ , then, to tell him about this spy business," McCoy said. "And let me guess. Jim's mother's coming too."

"Indeed," Spock nodded. "I would also like to inform you of another development."

"I don't have all day, commander, and I need to check on Jim."

"He's in his quarters."

"He is?" McCoy asked. He had half-expected Jim to give a little more fight about it than that.

"I escorted him to his quarters and came here directly. It would be wise to give him more time to look over the logs of the _Isis_." Spock paused. "The captain discovered a connection between the _Isis_ and Admiral Marcus."

"Of course he did," McCoy said, fully aware of the goofy smile growing on his face. "He's impassioned and that's when his instincts work best."

Spock stared at him. "You are smiling, doctor."

McCoy gave a short laugh. "I'm just glad to hear things are going as Jim expected them to go."

"Do you wish to know the connection that he found?"

McCoy exhaled a slow breath. "I do, and I expect it to be a doozy if it involves Marcus."

"Indeed, it is a remarkable connection. It is one which offers a significant probability that his mother was being truthful about the nature of the organization."

"As long as Jim doesn't get his hopes up, Spock," McCoy warned.

"He is fully aware that it is speculation until he speaks with Captain Roark."

"Our captain is back," McCoy said, shaking his head in relief that Jim was stepping up to the plate. "He's different, but he's back."

"You must be the one to help him through the next step, Leonard," Spock said.

"The next step?"

"I anticipate that Jim will have some difficulty seeing himself for the first time," Spock said.

McCoy winced. The damn mirror. He got up from his chair, berating himself for stupidly forgetting that it would be an issue for Jim. "I have to get to his quarters. It may not have been a good idea to leave him alone, Spock."

"Elise suggested that Jim focus on Samantha until your arrival, and he is following her suggestion."

McCoy relaxed only a little but rolled his eyes at Spock's formality with Jim's snake. "Maybe you should come along, too," he offered.

"I will be available if he needs assistance but Elise recognizes a strength in Jim that has not been there before. He may experience some amount of distress, but he will ultimately react as a Re'an. He will not require nor does he desire an audience as he views his reflection."

"In other words, we should be relieved that he'll be dealing with this like a Re'an," McCoy muttered under his breath. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of being even remotely thankful towards the mind-sucking species.

"That is one way to consider it, yes," Spock said. "However, your presence will also be necessary to calm him, as you are the one for whom he will be most concerned."

"What do you mean, he'll be most concerned about me?" McCoy frowned. The concern from Jim was nice but also unnerving. _Very_ unnerving.

"Once he sees that his features have changed, he will understand your grief on a deeper level, Leonard."

"It's a good thing we talked yesterday," McCoy sighed. As difficult as it had been to tell Jim the depth of his grief, it had cleared the air between them.

"It is," Spock said in a soft voice. "It will also be prudent for you to keep an open mind in regards to his scars, as you have been doing. As he makes his own decisions, he displays and also embodies the characteristics of the James T. Kirk we once knew."

"You know that I'll do whatever I can."

"Indeed, you already are, Leonard." Spock said warmly. "We all aspire to your example."

"I am far from being a perfect friend to Jim Kirk, Spock," McCoy gave a short laugh.

"You are correct in saying you are not perfect, as it is an impossibility for us all, but you are what he needs above all else," Spock said.

"Don't sell yourself short, commander," McCoy replied.

"Indeed, doctor, I will not discredit my own involvement, as I have realized the alteration of our camaraderie as of late." Spock paused, expression softening.

"It has been a bit of a ride," McCoy confirmed. "But, I see the changes, too. Quite frankly, I never was much for friends and here I have two that know me better than I know myself, sometimes. I admit, I also can't believe I've been agreeing with you so much, but I think I sorta like it. Don't think it'll last, but I like it."

"Indeed. I must convey my own unfortunate, paradoxical statement as I concur, doctor. I, too, do not believe we shall always find ourselves in agreement."

McCoy wagged his brows. "You are quite the character, Mr. Spock."

"However, I am gratified that our camaraderie is mutually acceptable amongst the three of us." Spock said.

McCoy crossed his arms and watched the smart-ass Vulcan. Jim could use some of this humor.

"Dr. McCoy, you are stalling," Spock observed.

"I wish you'd agree to accompany me to Jim's quarters."

"I have other duties to perform. You may inform Jim that I am preparing the crew for our two guests tomorrow," Spock replied.

"If you change your mind..." McCoy hesitated.

"Our captain may have experienced great change to his person, but his friend, Doctor Leonard McCoy, has not changed. Indeed, if there has been any change at all, it has been a strengthening of friendship. Thus, if I may use a common colloquialism, whether it is the former Jim Kirk or the one who is currently in command, he, the captain, has always been in good hands." A faint but genuine smile crossed Spock's face. "Yours."

 

* * *

 

Jim was very, very pleased. So far, things were progressing just as he'd expected. Tomorrow, he'd welcome Captain Roark and Commander Kirk aboard the _Enterprise_. Nothing about Captain Roark's voice or expression revealed the underlying issue between them. He'd also been quite amicable. Jim, in turn, didn't hesitate when Roark suggested that his mother accompany him for their briefing. Jim was ready. Having manipulated the events accordingly, and if Jim were to be honest, having also manipulated his mother, Jim had dangled the carrot, leading Roark straight to the _Enterprise_ where Jim would soon get some answers.

"So, I heard that you found what you were looking for," Bones said. He appeared about four meters away from Jim, who stood with his snake draped over his arm.

"I did," Jim said, transfixed by the Re'an snake he called his own. There was no question about it. The creature sharing his living space was beautiful. The rich blues, golds and greens of her skin followed a bold, striped pattern. The camouflage would work best in the wilderness on Re'an V, but here, under Jim's care, her colorful pattern would be admired, not used as a protection. And now that Jim could see her as she truly was, the connection between them had deepened. Her scent affected his mind with a strength it hadn't before, and there wasn't any other reasonable explanation for it except that his vision was working alongside his other senses. Jim welcomed the invasion because as Elise had discovered, this connection made him feel like the person he was meant to be, the man who could captain the _Enterprise_.

"You got to your quarters quicker than I expected," Bones added.

Jim lifted his eyes to the doctor. "Like you said, I found what I needed. Now I can sleep instead of upsetting my cranky doctor," Jim offered him a crooked grin.

"Just as as long as you do sleep," Bones said. "I'm giving you a sedative to make sure."

"I realize this could be a long shot, but even Spock thinks there's a chance that they were trying to stop Marcus," Jim said, watching his friend's reaction carefully.

He didn't disappoint. Bones frowned. "Be careful, Jim. You may find out something that you wished you didn't know."

"I have learned to expect about anything when it comes to my mother," Jim said. He walked back to the case, placing Sam back in her home for the night. He smiled as she slid off his hand and nestled herself in a corner of her case. "Thanks for not telling me about Sam, Bones."

"Yeah, figured it would be best for you to see with your own eyes what you got yourself into."

"I feel better," Jim said bluntly. "As soon as I stepped into my quarters. And it's because of her."

"I know she's good for ya," Bones said. "By the way, I think you should have the last exam with Sheffield before Captain Roark and your mom come aboard."

Jim dropped his hands. He really should call it a night. "Probably would be best."

"You're sure you can handle seeing her again?"

"It won't be easy," Jim said. "But, it's the only way we'll get anywhere with them. Roark was adamant that she accompany him. I wasn't in a position to say no, not when so much is at stake."

"According to Spock, he's quite the dynamic individual."

"I can handle him," Jim said.

Bones looked at him carefully. "I know ya can, captain, especially with what you found out today. I admit I was impressed."

"Chekov deserves some of the credit, Bones," Jim clarified and walked to his bedroom. "Actually, they all do." Jim stopped short of his bed and looked at it with longing.

"They performed their duties, just as they told you they would." Bones said, coming up from behind him. "What are you waiting for? For me to tuck you in?"

"Would you read to me? Give me a kiss like you give Jo?" Jim sniggered. "Then, yes."

Bones grunted. "You're incorrigible."

Jim grinned. "You're the one who offered, Bones." Jim then frowned. "But, if I do stretch out on that comfortable, soft bed, nothing, not even chocolate or your mother's pies, would make me crawl out of it."

Bones threw him a look. "Jim..."

"I know. I know." Jim raised his hands in surrender. "I was overzealous today."

"You had no choice, Jim," Bones said. Jim glanced sideways at the doctor. A guilty expression slipped over McCoy's face. "About before..."

"You don't have to explain."

"I do. I overreacted earlier," Bones admitted. "You were right. I was upset that you didn't remember Miss Hoshi. Or Buster. It doesn't make sense to me that the Re'an took away your chickens, Jim."

Jim looked to the floor. The Re'an had taken a lot of things. It didn't stop at chickens.

"I named the chickens Miss Hoshi and Buster?" Jim asked, hoping to find some good in the walk down memory lane. They sounded like pets. Especially Miss Hoshi. Not some random chickens on a farm. "How old was I, again?"

"You were eight, Jim, and naming them may have not been a good idea because you got too attached to those two when you were a kid." Bones paused. "If you catch my drift."

So much for spreading good cheer. "Oh," Jim frowned, easily imagining child-him being upset that his pet chickens named Miss Hoshi and Buster had been slaughtered. "I didn't eat them, did I?"

"Hell, no, Jim." Bones shook his head. "Apparently, as you told it, you grabbed their carcasses from Frank and buried them before he could sink his teeth into them."

Jim fell quiet. He'd rescued the dead chickens from Frank? That sounded like big trouble for child-him. "I should probably take a shower," Jim muttered before any memory of Frank punishing child-Jim happened to return. Or more happened to return. A shiver traveled up his spine. He could already feel his step-father's foul breath along his cheek.

"And forgo your pretty bubbles?" Bones said amusedly. Jim soaked up the Southern drawl.

"Hey, those bubbles do fulfill some purpose other than looking pretty in the tub." Jim said in defense. "I like to pop them."

"How'd they let you graduate from the Academy, anyway?" Bones muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jim said, pulling off his command shirt.

"You're an incorrigible bubble popper."

"So?" Jim dropped the shirt in the laundry. "I'm practically a professional at it by now. Just ask Garig. He started it, by the way."

"Don't go blamin' my staff for your fetishes." Bones complained. "Kids pop bath bubbles. Jim, you're twenty-seven years old."

Jim smiled to himself and sank to the edge of his bed. He reached for his boots, his muscles screaming for him to forget talking and go to sleep. With painfully slow movements, he tugged one boot off. He regretted not at least taking a short nap mid-day. "Haven't you heard? So do twenty-seven year old Starfleet captains," he quipped, finishing with the second boot.

"Starfleet captains who are still kids," Bones threw back.

He was most definitely not a kid, Jim mused as he rubbed the stubble along his jaw. He needed to shave, not as badly as Bones did, but it was something he should take care of right away. He got up with some effort and headed for his bathroom.

"I like to enjoy myself more than other people. You have to live a little when you're on a starship, Bones," Jim said, stopping in the doorway to the bathroom. He grabbed the frame and turned to grin at Bones. "You should try it sometime. I'll even let you borrow my bubble bath."

Jim stepped into the bathroom, the door closing immediately behind him. Bones didn't reply, and Jim wondered about that but he pulled out his powered razor. He'd forgo the use of shaving cream and his more primitive razor, although he actually preferred them; he wanted that shower so he could get to his bed as quickly as possible. He held the razor up to his face, but as he looked into the glass, Jim found himself staring at a stranger.

The reflection in the mirror wasn't the Captain James T. Kirk in his memories nor was it the man in his imagination, the one he thought he'd been a mere few months ago. It wasn't the man who'd sat next to Leonard McCoy on the shuttle. It wasn't the man who'd set off for the black. This person was a stranger, an alien, even. Gone was the blonde hair and the smooth skin around his eyes. This man was thinner, his cheeks a little sunken and his jaw more defined, like chiseled bone. Scars and experience wreathed his eyes like danger and lies accompanied his life, leaving broken paths and rigid paths of skin. His dark, ash brown hair, a shade more black than blonde, hit him the hardest. It reflected his most recent past with the Re'an, with his mom, and now with himself, the culminating effect giving him an almost sinister appearance.

Jim's razor clattered on top of the counter. He gripped the edges of the sink, holding himself up by the last of his tenacity. His stomach took a violent turn, the nausea already welling up his throat as he fixated on the stranger staring back at him.

The truth hit him like a knife in his back. This entire time, ever since the Re'an, since he was blind, Jim Kirk had been missing. He was still missing. Without a doubt, he'd disappeared and this stranger had taken over his life. No wonder Jim sensed a continuous hesitance from Bones. No wonder he'd caught Bones looking at him warily today. No wonder Bones had grieved - _was still grieving_ \- the death of James T. Kirk, his best friend, who wasn't this dark reflection in the mirror. That James T. Kirk really had disappeared and in place of him was this...this _thing_.

"Jim?" Bones' worried voice bled through the door.

Jim? That man was a stranger. Not only to himself, but to every other person on this ship.

"Jim? I imagine that by now you looked in the mirror and that's why you're not answering. Will you open the door?" Bones asked.

Nausea stole into his throat. He couldn't clasp his hand over his mouth fast enough.

"Jim?"

Jim shivered. The name clashed with the image in the mirror. He clenched his eyes shut, feeling suffocated as the truth pressed in all around him.

"Jim. Please, answer me, buddy," Bones pleaded.

Jim gagged again. He hunched pathetically over the sink and spewed what filled his mouth, unable to move his body to the commode. Already, a fine sheen of sweat covered his skin but he ignored it as nausea traveled forcibly up his throat.

"Jim? I hear you..."

He shivered a second time as he caught another glimpse of the dark hair, the ridges of skin surrounding his eyes and the implants. He gagged again, his body helpless to his physical reaction. He pounded a fist on the counter as it began, the heaving attacking him in strong waves, over and over.

"Shit," Bones' fist beat against the door. "Jim, the nanotech...I can see what's going on. I have to come in to help you but I can't get through this particular door with my override. Ya gotta let me in, Jim."

Jim's groan covered the doctor's words. He heard only snatches as his sickness came to a rolling, twisted stop, his breath now coming out in short, ragged bursts. How the hell would Starfleet even explain this to the media? To everyone following the captain of the flagship and his crew? What sort of impact would it make on his crew when word got out that Captain Kirk was another person - _this alien_ \- altogether?

A grunt sounded behind the door. Jim cringed, envisioning Bones repeatedly crashing into the door with his shoulder to get to him. "Jim, please let me in."

Jim took a ragged breath. He wasn't ready for that. "Just give...give me a...a minute, Bones," Jim called out hoarsely, hunching more so his head dangled between his shoulders.

"Can't do that, pal," Bones said with another grunt. "Open the door, or I'll get security to do it for you."

Security? Jim groaned and closed his eyes, reaching up with one hand to knead the taut muscles of his neck. "Okay, okay. Just...hold on." Grimacing, he pulled himself up as straight as he could, using the counter to support himself. The nausea was far from subsiding but involving security wasn't an option. Jim wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and gave the command to open the door, body sagging.

Bones' hands were instantly on Jim's shoulders, holding him up. Bones' lips pressed flat as he peered at Jim. "Ya alright?"

"Just needed a minute. 'm fine now," he muffled.

"You're not fine, Jim," Bones said quietly, wiping a cloth along Jim's forehead.

Jim dropped his hand from his mouth and miserably stared back. "How can you stand it?"

"Jim Kirk came into my sickbay in a body bag once," Bones said. "That's how I can stand it. You're here, Jim. Talking. Being captain. _Breathing_."

"Do I have to have a mirror? I don't want a mirror."

"No, you don't have to have one," Bones said slowly, letting go of Jim. He reached in his medbag. "But you do know that getting rid of it won't make it any easier on you."

Jim gripped the edge of the counter with both hands. "I'm going to bed."

"Okay," Bones said softly, as if it had been a normal day, a normal stop in Jim's quarters. Bones gave him hypo of something, and then another. Maybe a sedative, Jim thought vaguely. A slow working sedative. Or a drug to combat his nausea, as it was now dissipating.

"I'm going to bed. I'm tired, Bones." Jim made no effort to move. "I don't even want to talk about it tomorrow or the next day or...I don't want to care about what...what I..." Jim said haltingly. "It doesn't matter. It just doesn't matter, Bones."

"That's fine, Jim. It's your decision."

"It is what it is, and I can't change it," Jim said.

"You need to do what makes you comfortable," Bones said.

Jim knew exactly what would make him comfortable. Dealing with this the Re'an way. "I don't want to change it, because...that's not what I do. The scars stay."

Bones nodded. "I know and I understand, Jim, but only if you're sure. You know if you ever change your mind, I can take care of it."

"They stay," Jim repeated. He squared his shoulders and dared his friend - _anyone_ \- to challenge him. "They stay because I want them to remind me."

"Of what?" Bones asked, but Jim could see in his friend's sorrowful eyes that he already knew.

"Of absolutely everything the Re'an and my mother have done to me," Jim replied.

So he wouldn't make the same mistake twice and forget what he'd learned in life ever again. Keeping his scars was a small sacrifice. Especially when the lives of his crew depended upon it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feeling generous, especially since I had to split this chapter into two parts, making you wait even longer for the end! Here's hint #2: I'm bringing in some guys I haven't written about...ever...hehe! See you soon with the next update!


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! I had a last minute change of plans - I honestly was going to finish Indigenous with an epilogue of epic proportions. But, after reconsidering the idea and asking the opinion of Rubyhair, my beta reader, I've decided that epilogue would work best and make a greater impact as a shorter sequel. So, there's the trade-off. :) This is the final chapter of this story but for reasons you will soon understand, the saga will continue. Thank you so much for hanging there with me! Hope you enjoy the read!
> 
> Trigger warning: mention of suicide. More notes at the end.

Jim drummed his fingers along the table in the Forward Observation Lounge. Captain Roark was late and Jim's patience was running thin.

According to Bones, Jim's shift was over in a few hours. Three to be exact, and Roark's late arrival encroached on those already limited hours. Yesterday, Jim managed to squeeze in a little more time investigating Roark's records before returning to his quarters but today Jim wouldn't be so lucky. Bones wholeheartedly agreed with Sheffield's warning during Jim's follow-up exam this morning. The ophthalmologist ordered him to take it easy for a few more days, since the work he'd had to do out of necessity may have caused some slight strain. Then, Bones went as far as to remind Jim of his headache the day before, and both doctors firmly suggesting that he avoid copious amounts of paperwork or further research on any device for another week, and instead, ease into it. Jim took the hint. He acquiesced, if only to lessen Bones' worry. Other than that, he was in the clear but still only approved for half-shifts and this current one was quickly coming to an end. Jim wouldn't be able to twist the doctor's arm for more time.

Pushing away from the table, Jim stood and turned to peer at the Thriuna star system through the viewscreen. He recalled being patient when it had been necessary as captain of the Enterprise, but it hadn't always been a virtue that came easy to him. As Re'an, patience would always be required, and he was failing miserably right now. Admittedly, he was impatient, but not because he wanted this 'briefing' over and done with. The truth, or what he'd hoped would be the truth, was literally one transport away and he needed the truth as soon as possible. Hearing it in the lounge where he'd thrown his mother off of his ship seemed more than fitting. Directing the 'briefing' with Roark and his mother here was a calculated move on his part, emphasizing his control in spite of the whirlwind of chaos that his mother brought to his life and to the _Enterprise_.

_Captain._

_Spock, any word?_ Spock initiated his shields awhile ago but their bond had clearly broadened again and Jim was more than happy to use their bond for discrete communication between them, especially in this circumstance.

_Captain Roark has arrived. I shall escort him to the Observation Lounge upon your word._

_You may proceed now, Commander._ Jim frowned and crossed his arms. _And my mother?_

 _She has also arrived._ Spock paused. _Elise senses that she will act as formal with you as possible until you give her permission to speak. She wishes for me to tell you that you must not mistake your mother's aloofness incorrectly._

 _Interesting_. Jim rubbed his jaw. _Is it because of Roark?_

_He is her superior, on the Isis and quite possibly within this organization._

_True._

_Your mother also does not wish to overstep her boundaries and upset you like she did before._

Jim placed a hand on the transparent aluminum, leaning as he shook his head in disgust. Now she wants to follow protocol? It seemed just like his mother to change her mind in an attempt to confuse Jim. _Why is Elise not telling me this herself?_

_She cannot alternate her telepathy between you and the commander without risking your well-being as well as your confidence and strategy for the briefing._

_Agreed. She must be careful._

When his mother and Captain Roark stepped onto the deck, Jim immediately understood Elise's forewarning. Winona was quiet, her expression well-guarded. In contrast, Roark's smile filled the room and it took Jim a few seconds to adjust to the exuberance and energy of the other captain.

"Captain Kirk, it is a pleasure to finally meet Starfleet's golden boy," Roark said, smiling.

The tactless comment found a mark, but it wasn't Jim. Spock's shoulders visibly stiffened and his eyes fixated fiercely upon Roark as if he were his worst enemy.

 _At ease, commander. It's fine, Spock._ Somehow, Jim was not surprised that Roark had made a grand entrance with this kind of statement. Whether he truly meant it to hurt Jim or point out the obvious, Jim didn't care. He didn't care to play any of their games, today or ever.

_It is not fine, Captain. It is clearly an attempt to damage your confidence._

_And I will ignore it. No harm done._

"Captain Roark, I'm sure you won't mind if we proceed with the briefing here," Jim nodded from his seat, refusing to respond properly as expected. "It's a little unorthodox but I prefer the view."

"Captain Kirk, I'm glad to meet another Starfleet captain who's not afraid to break tradition," Roark said. "It's more than acceptable, considering your recent circumstances. I understand that it's only been twenty-four hours since your sight has returned."

"Yes, it has, and I appreciate your understanding," Jim said. "Have a seat, Captain Roark, Commander Kirk."

Roark settled into a chair beside Winona. "I've been ordered to clear some things up for you and also to confirm that what Commander Kirk told you is the truth. We balance the powers, Kirk. Nothing more, nothing less."

"By all means, let's get straight to the point," Jim said easily. "First, however, you have to understand that it will be difficult to accept your words at face value."

"Red Tail was expecting you to say that," Roark said.

"Red Tail?" Spock asked. "He is your superior, I assume."

"Yes, Mr. Spock. Red Tail is the head of Project Raptor, our organization."

"A bird of prey," Spock said. "A fascinating choice to describe a shadow organization."

"You and Commander Kirk are his eyes," Jim said, drawing the same conclusion he had yesterday that his mother's superior was, indeed, quite clever.

"We are, among others," Roark nodded. "Although, it was his own observations years ago which first set things in motion."

"And what specifically did he observe?" Jim asked.

"Suspicious behavior of certain individuals. A slow burn for power."

"So he is in a position where he can make these observations himself? A position of significant rank in Starfleet?" Jim wouldn't hold his breath that Roark would answer that but it was worth the try.

"I will have to be on my toes with you, Kirk. Let's just say he knows how to work his assets."

Roark pushed a PADD across the table. Jim glanced up at the other captain.

Roark nodded in encouragement. "Red Tail asked me to give you this. You are to read his message, preferably before we begin."

"I assume that you also read it?" Jim asked, taking the device into his hands.

"No," Roark leaned forward, clasping his hands together on the table. "He wants to gain your cooperation. I'd be foolish to foil his plan by looking at something he ordered me at point blank to ignore.

"I see," Jim said, eyes upon the screen as the silhouetted image of a raptor appeared. He pressed his finger against the center of the bird and read the message quietly to himself.

And was ill-prepared for its contents.

* * *

 

The captain's own shields went up the minute he took the device in his hands and began to read. Spock did not take offense at the direct block. He was pleased that Jim was able to control their bond in a precarious situation for it was logical to believe that Red Tail would use something of the captain's past to reveal his trustworthiness. Jim had already suffered from numerous intrusions. He did not need to experience further encroachment of his privacy. However, Spock immediately deduced that the message had made a great impact, enough to secure the captain in his chair for another full minute in silence. Jim's expression was guarded, giving no indication if the message impacted him one way or another. Even his hands were steady, belying nothing of the fact that sixteen point four hours earlier, he had experienced great anxiety upon seeing his own reflection.

"If you will excuse me for a few moments, I have a pressing matter to tend to," Jim finally said, without looking up.

Roark's brow furrowed slightly. "Shall we convene another time, captain? I am more than willing to adjust to your schedule."

It was Roark's most honest and polite statement since his arrival, and perhaps the very reason Jim sent him a cursory look before standing to his feet. "I prefer that you remain here with Mr. Spock until my return, if you don't mind. I won't be long."

_Spock, I'll be in the ready room. It won't take long. Do not allow them to leave._

_Understood, captain._

Without waiting for a response, Jim exited the room in a flurry.

"Red Tail's safeguards are always very interesting," Roark mused aloud. "My own took two weeks to complete. It was quite the scavenger hunt, but I was more than willing to submit to his guidance at the end of those fourteen days. I admit that I'm very curious. I'd like to know how he is going to convince your captain that we are who we say we are - in the matter of minutes."

"I'm sure that he'll be tactful, whatever he chooses," Winona murmured.

Roark gave her a look. "You hope, that is. If he doesn't, I'm sure you will speak on your son's behalf, but expect no apology from Red Tail, commander. As you know, we aren't dealing with schoolyard bullies and he has to make sure that Kirk is up to the task of learning the truth." Roark paused. "Are you yourself even slightly curious, Mr. Spock?"

"Indeed, I am curious but I am far more concerned for the intrusion upon the captain's privacy," Spock said.

Roark nodded. "I respect that answer, Mr. Spock. I know it's based on Kirk's unfortunate experiences with the Re'an." He hesitated, a sincere expression crossing his face. "I wish I had made Kirk's acquaintance sooner."

"The _Isis_ has had few engagements within your own solar system the past five years, has it not?" Spock asked. "I doubt that you have met with your superiors at headquarters since your last rendezvous in San Francisco, when Captain Kirk was in the hospital and recovering from radiation poisoning. It was poor timing, indeed, to make the captain's acquaintance."

"Ah, you've done your homework, Mr. Spock," Roark's eyes lit up, as if he appreciated the challenge. "I expected as much. Neither you nor your captain will leave a stone unturned. But to answer your question, yes. It wasn't in the cards to meet your fine captain at that time, although I did think once about stopping by. Furthermore, our ship doesn't receive much acknowledgement, for given the nature of my crew and their research, it is quite insignificant compared to, say, the _Enterprise_."

"Insignificant except for your diplomatic endeavors."

"Of course, but even those fly under the radar. We may not have the most exciting engagements, but my crew works hard and..." Roark hesitated. "We may even venture into danger zones, not that you'll find anything to that nature in our logs. In fact, I believe that it may be difficult to find anything at all, as your captain knows now, I'm sure."

"I am curious as to why you consider your logs free from any clues indicating your involvement in matters, such as...a personal request by Admiral Marcus to provide transport for four scientists," Spock said evenly.

Roark glanced darkly at him. "I always knew that one would come back to haunt me."

"It would be difficult to deny a request straight from an admiral," Spock said.

"True. For the record, Red Tail had nothing to do with it, of course, except for warning me to be extra cautious. To my knowledge, Marcus never suspected us." Roark paused. "And did your captain then come to a dead end concerning the whereabouts of one particular scientist?"

"Roark," Winona's voice held warning. "It may be best to leave this alone until Jim returns."

"I assumed you would be advising me to leave Kirk out of the conversation altogether," Roark's eyes narrowed. "It has been the only way you've continued working for Red Tail."

Spock turned to Winona. "Your involvement with Project Raptor has been contingent upon your son's ignorance of the organization?"

"Red Tail promised me that he'd keep Jim out of this, and he has kept Jim out of our way all these years," Winona stated, her voice catching.

"Until now, that is," Roark said softly. A fine sheen of anger covered Winona's eyes as the captain spoke to her directly. "And because of the Re'an, your precious son is caught in the middle, but doing a damn good job of holding his own. I am simply amazed that he's able to command his ship after all he's been through."

"You're certainly not making things any easier on him, Roark," Winona said, through clenched teeth. "That wasn't necessary."

Roark tapped his fingers on the table, grinning. "Me not making things easy for him? I suppose you're referring to my greeting. Well, don't be alarmed about that, commander, Mr. Spock. I wanted to see if I could get under Kirk's skin and it was clear that I did not, which earned him one easy point. I think that Kirk understands me well already, as I understand him." He paused. Face drawn, he stared at Winona. "Besides, when it comes to not making things easy on your son, I believe you take first place in that category yourself, commander. Hands down."

* * *

 

"Lieutenant, I need you to patch me through to New Vulcan."

"Sir?" Nyota turned her head in surprise to see Kirk looming over her station on the bridge, his arms braced against the console. He was in the Observation Lounge, with his mother and Captain Roark, talking about their secrets, wasn't he? Why would he be here on the bridge? Why did it matter to her? It didn't matter...This was a situation none of them quite understood.

Kirk stared down at her as she quickly came to her senses. "Lieutenant, I need to speak with Ambassador Selek as soon as possible. I'll take the comm in the ready room," he said, voice firm but hardly above a whisper.

"Yes, sir," she said.

He remained motionless save for the slight crease to his brow.

"Captain?" Nyota asked softly, unsure if he wanted something else or, her heart began to race, was he suffering mentally as a result of the recent stress. "Sir?"

He breathed sharply through his nose, blinking quickly as if to refocus himself. "Lieutenant, this goes no further," he said, firmly, eyes like flint. "Do you understand?"

She didn't have to be told twice to know that she could not even mention this transmission to Spock. "You would like me to clear this transmission from our records?" She murmured discreetly.

"Yes," Kirk clipped.

"Understood, captain," she said.

"Lieutenant," he said again. The glimmer of apology in his voice tugged at her heart.

"No, don't say another word," Nyota said, looking straight into his eyes so that he could see that he could trust her. "This is my duty, sir."

Kirk had never been so still or so silent on the bridge. He stared at her, both of them communicating with the other, both remembering the words spoken the previous day. Nyota was proud of how far their captain had come. She could be proud, even though he could not feel the same for himself. Spock could be proud, and he was, though he didn't speak of it. This, every single action that Jim was taking as his mother's betrayal tested him, was proof that Jim Kirk was meant to be their captain.

Kirk pulled his hands away from the console and straightened. "Thank you, lieutenant," he said with a short yet strangely gentle nod. He strode off the bridge in his hurry, and Nyota proceeded with the transmission to New Vulcan.

As she worked, Nyota came up with a variety of reasons for Kirk needing to speak with Selek and requiring complete confidentiality. Every single one contributed to the worry curling in the pit of her stomach.

 

* * *

 

Jim ended the comm with the ambassador within fifteen minutes, and he left the ready room no less out of the dark than when he first went in. He couldn't talk about Red Tail's message with anyone and really, he didn't want to spare the time to think about it, either. He still didn't know if Roark or his own mother could be undoubtedly trusted, but what he did know was this: Red Tail was a man who had done his legwork to insure Jim's cooperation as well as his silence.

Red Tail's ways may be difficult to take. In fact, they were. He had been quite intrusive, going as far as to involve Selek and convincing him to divulge something about Jim. Jim still couldn't believe it, that Red Tail had managed to convince Selek, the very Vulcan who had vowed not to involve himself in anything that could alter their destinies, to reveal a secret that Jim had kept even from Bones. From _his_ Spock. The secret harkened back to Delta Vega. It was intrusive, personal on numerous levels, and a low blow at first. But, Jim's gut feeling told him that Red Tail was a man who wanted the best for Starfleet, not the worst. Even Selek believed Red Tail to be trustworthy, and he himself knew no more than Jim.

Jim came to a conclusion. Red Tail had first gained the ambassador's trust in preparation to someday gain Jim's. Red Tail had also gained Selek's trust in a way similar to how he'd gained Jim's. The entire process appeared to have been premeditated, but both Jim and Selek agreed on one very important thing: Red Tail had clearly not anticipated Jim's involvement with the Re'an. Instead, the Re'an incident seemed to have jump started this communication between Red Tail and Jim. It was as if the obscure leader had expected that one way or another Jim would someday find out the truth about his mother, and that, quite frankly, was enough for Jim to realize one very important thing. He had no way of getting out of this mess or away from Red Tail's observant eyes or slipping out from under the radar of anyone looking for the Re'an's dilithium - other than by dying.

Red Tail wanted Jim's cooperation. Jim was certain that, eventually, he'd also want his participation. For now, at least, the latter was a choice that Jim did not have to make.

His comm sounded as he reached the lift. " _McCoy to Captain Kirk."_

Jim sighed, knowing his inevitable rising blood pressure was the very reason for the doctor's comm. "Yes, Bones."

_"May I have a word with you, captain?"_

"Shoot," Jim said, hesitating outside the lift.

 _"A private word,"_ Bones emphasized.

"It's fine. I'm not in the lounge right now."

 _"You're not?"_ Bones' voice filled with concern. _"Then where are ya?"_

"Had to take care of something."

_"Jim, what's going on? Your vitals are disconcerting. Have been for the past twenty minutes or so and now I'm concerned."_

"Meet me in my quarters?"

 _"Now?_ " Bones questioned. _"You're in the middle of a briefing, aren't you?"_

"I'll explain when you meet me in my quarters in five minutes," Jim said.

 _"On my way, captain,"_ Bones said.

"Kirk out." Jim slipped into the lift. He got off at deck five and then entered his quarters, hardly realizing what he was doing until Sam was in his arms and wrapped around him. Bones arrived less than a minute later, all business but standing a safe distance away from the snake.

"It's going to be hard to give you anything with her in your arms. Can you put her down, Jim, for just a minute?" Bones asked.

He really didn't want to but Bones had been more than patient with him lately, so Jim did the next best thing. He had no idea where the idea came from but he did what his instincts told him. Unwilling to let Sam go, he silently willed her to move to his left side, and in seconds she'd coiled herself around his left arm entirely.

"What did you just do?" Bones' voice mixed awe and worry. "It was like...how...."

"Have no idea," Jim said, a little dumbfounded himself. Did this mean he had a stronger bond to the damn snake than they first thought? A deep connection that went even deeper? The thought was crazy, just as everything else about the snake and his connection to her was crazy, and he honestly didn't want to dwell on even more insanity at the moment. "But maybe you better hurry and do what you have to do."

Bones wasted no time. He began muttering about Jim's unpredictable vitals, no doubt keeping one eye on the creature while he worked. Jim winced when Bones administered the second hypo. Sam immediately tightened her coils around his arms.

Bones pulled away at the movement, saying nothing but keeping close watch on Sam, his wary eyes saying it all.

"She's not going to harm you, Bones. She's trying to help me," Jim assured him.

"And you know that...how?" Bones asked.

"Because of the pressure...it's..." Jim hesitated. It sounded even more bizarre when he vocalized it.

"Out with it, Jim."

"Soothing," he finally said. He rolled his eyes when he caught Bones' dumbfounded expression. "I know. I know...it's...weird," he finished lamely.

"Take her to the lounge," Bones ordered.

"That's just crazy. Take her to..." Jim shook his head, confused. "You're crazy."

"I'm not the one wearing a snake," Bones smirked. "Take her with you back to the lounge."

"And why would I want to take a poisonous snake with me to talk to Captain Roark and my mother."

"To show them who's boss, that's why," Bones argued. "Besides, you now know you can control her like that."

"Huh," Jim glanced back down at Sam. She did make a striking picture like this. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. "I'll take her, but only if you can manage to come, too."

"I have a little time to spare. Can you tell me what the hell is going on, though, before you drag me into things?" Bones asked.

"Their leader, Red Tail, wants my cooperation, and I believe him. Them." Jim left it at that. And waited.

"You believe _them_?" Bones' eyes pooled with confusion. " _Her_?"

"Bones, when you consider the evils out there, they're the good guys," Jim said.

"Good guys," Bones repeated. "Right. And you tell me, Jim, how the hell do you even know that?"

Jim looked at Bones, guilt eating him when he could not divulge the whole truth. "Red Tail found a way to convince me to cooperate."

"He blackmailed you?" Bones asked.

"Well, no, not exactly."

"For him to do something like this, Jim, convince you to trust him, after all that has happened to you, it had to be big. Really big, and that..." Bones' suddenly stopped.

"It what?"

The doctor's eyes pierced him. "It worries me. If he can manage something like this, what else can he do?"

"Trust me on this, Bones," Jim said quietly.

"You know I do, but I want to be honest with you. Can you tell me how a man you have never met earned your cooperation so fast?"

"When you put it that way, it does sound crazy, doesn't it?" Jim admitted.

"From my point of view, it's insane, Jim," Bones protested, all but throwing his arms in the air. "You're off your rocker!"

Jim almost agreed with Bones right then and there. He'd never told anyone about the meld on Delta Vega, and now was the first time he actually wanted to, especially since the secret had been revealed to Red Tail. He wanted to tell Bones and have someone on his side, but...who knew what the doctor's reaction would be.

Ambassador Selek said Red Tail came to him soon after Jim had been revived from the dead, and he'd had no choice but to get involved after learning Project Raptor's purpose. The meld was the logical choice of information to divulge to Red Tail. That meant that for well over a year now, the obscure leader had known that during the Narada attacks, Jim suffered side effects and emotional transference from the meld with Selek. It was knowledge that anyone could have used to their advantage, and Red Tail was probably also aware that Jim had seen glimpses of the other Kirk. The other Spock. The other everything. He could have taken steps to try to retrieve additional information from Jim - but hadn't. He could have relayed the information to headquarters, giving any admiral reason to argue against Jim's very sanity while he'd commanded the _Enterprise_ against Nero, opening a can of worms and causing them to question Jim's captaincy now, but he hadn't. There had been more to Red Tail's message, but... Jim bit his lip, pushing the thoughts away. He wouldn't tell Bones yet, though someday... maybe.

"I can't tell you the details, Bones, but you're right. It was big. He may have went a bit too far to ensure my cooperation." Jim rushed on, seeing Bones' mother-hen, protective expression and sensing the great protest about to burst forth from his lips. "That said, I will cooperate with him but I don't trust Roark and my mom completely, especially outside of Project Raptor. I have to be on my guard. I assumed from the beginning that there was another reason behind my mother's deception, that whoever was behind this had an ulterior motive and wanted more than information about the dilithium, and I think I know now...what it..." Jim's voice diminished to nothing.

"Jim? What are you driving at?" Bones asked slowly.

"Red Tail is testing me...through her." Jim was doubly sure of it, and also of something else. "Because of that, he's ultimately testing us. He's testing my crew."

* * *

 

Spock was surely not smug when the captain made the grand entrance he'd hoped for. Commander Kirk's breath gently hitched as she watched her son stride forward with the doctor by his side. Roark's eyebrows shot up, his eyes widening upon seeing the sleek, colorful creature snugly fitted to Jim's upper torso. The body of the snake blended in with Jim's shirt, the golds so close to the same shade that the illusion both enlarged and strengthened the captain's shoulders.

"I've confirmed Red Tails's message," Jim said. He ignored the others' stares and promptly returned to his seat at the head of the table, Dr. McCoy taking a seat beside Spock. Samantha remained still, an almost threatening fixture on Jim.

"You believe us?" Roark asked, his eyes roaming briefly over Samantha's bold markings before glancing up at Jim.

"I believe Red Tail sent you to me so that he could gain my trust." Jim's steely gaze pierced the other captain. "For now, he has my cooperation."

"Excellent." Roark murmured. "Then shall we proceed?"

"What's he after?" Jim asked, folding his hands on the table.

"I think you may have an idea," Roark lifted his shoulders in indifference. "You've witnessed it firsthand, Kirk."

"Red matter," Jim said, his demeanor oozed with a natural, quiet calmness. Spock's ears were accustomed to Jim's softer voice, but the others leaned forward, straining to hear the captain. "Photon torpedoes. And now, an excess of dilithium. Weapons."

"All of it, and more. Things you've never heard of," Roark said. "For two decades we have succeeded - or failed - in our efforts to get them out of the wrong hands. It seems that you can't have one result without the other."

"Such as your failure to stop one of the biggest threats that Starfleet has ever faced," Jim said, mouth drawing into a frown. "And the discovery and subsequent deaths of two of your moles."

Roark glanced sharply at Jim. "You've clearly done your homework, Kirk, and Red Tail would be impressed. Therefore, I'll validate this information for you. Their deaths were most unfortunate, but they did sabotage some of their own research. They alerted us of the existence of a John Harrison and also managed to send word of several traffic patterns of several smaller supply ships to the _Vengeance_. We plundered the ships that we were able to attack...inconspicuously."

"It wasn't enough," Jim frown deepened. "But you may have delayed the ship's construction, saving lives in the process. There is your success, as you say."

"It's never enough, and you may be right but we will never know. We can only hope that we managed to make a difference," Roark looked darkly down at his hands. "We did manage to cripple some of Marcus' progress in other ways. We believe it still sent the message."

"Your ship is insufficiently equipped to handle a discreet attack," Spock observed.

"True," Roark glanced up with a nod. "That's why we don't do all of the plundering. Throws our enemies off our trail."

"You have gained the cooperation of other Federations members outside of Starfleet," Spock said.

"Gaining strong allies was the first thing Red Tail ever did," Roark said.

Jim hummed noncommittally. "That was a smart move on his part. And the scientist who's been missing all this time?"

"He wasn't with us," Roark glanced sideways at Winona.

"He's still a threat at large," Winona confirmed. "We can only hope he doesn't know that we spoke with his companions during their transport."

"You cover your tracks well, I assume," Jim said.

"Win's friendship with Archer works to our advantage, because this time, we hardly had to work for the cover to visit you," Roark's eyes narrowed on Jim. "However, captain, your cooperation must have come at a great expense, enough for you to agree to silence. Red Tail isn't ignorant of your loyalty to the admiral. I find it very interesting that you are shifting loyalties so easily, Kirk."

Spock felt Jim bristling at the surface. _Do not allow him to test you, captain. He can only speculate the reason for your cooperation and spout false accusations._

 _He can speculate until he's blue in the face, for all I care_ , Jim grimly told Spock. _That information is mine and mine alone._ "I assure you, Red Tail has my cooperation and Admiral Archer has my loyalty," Jim said passionately. "My decision to cooperate with your leader isn't based on feelings but facts, Captain Roark, nor does it negate my loyalty to my own superiors. My crew and I have experienced first-hand of what men can do with their unfulfilled desires of revenge or power. Sometimes you do have to walk the middle line, if not to make sure no harms comes to those you vowed to protect."

Roark's eyes flickered to Winona. "It seems your mother agrees with that sentiment, doesn't she, Kirk?"

Jim froze.

Spock immediately opened his shields further, extending his protection to the captain. _Jim, do not allow him lure you into an emotional response._

_I'm trying my best, Spock, but he's getting under my skin a little, and we're supposed to be on the same side. He's doing this purposefully. I don't know why, but he is._

"If you're referring to the orders made by Commander Kirk which resulted in harming innocent blind children, you're incredibly foolish to compare the two," Jim said, blatantly ignoring his mother.

"You think that you could have found a better way. I'm inclined to believe you, Kirk," Roark said smoothly.

"I do think I could've found an alternative, but let's not waste time on speculation. It's in the past and I'm sure we have other, more important things to take care of," Jim leaned back in his seat, Samantha's coils loosening as her master's own muscles relaxed, the two now moving as one. "Project Raptor, captain. By all means, tell me more."

 

* * *

 

Jim learned that Red Tail did, indeed, have others on the Isis working with Project Raptor as well as on other ships, but Roark talked in circles and expertly avoided further detail. It was coming to a stalemate. Obviously, Red Tail wanted Jim's cooperation but didn't wish for Roark and Winona to divulge too much information at this time. Jim was forced to squelch his own curiosity, which he found easy to do when, during a lull in conversation, the other captain's fascination with Sam came to light.

"May I see her up close?" Roark asked.

"I wouldn't recommend it. She's poisonous," Jim said, not believing for a second that the captain was ignorant of Sam's venomous bite. He was far too intelligent to assume the Re'an creature was a simple creature.

"Ah, I suspected as much." Roark's silken voice filled the room. "That's unfortunate. This creature's too marvelous to remain in her case while she makes your ship her home."

"I agree. It's why I brought her with me." Jim grasped Sam gently by the neck and near the tail. He pulled her off of his shoulders, placing her along his arm, instead.

"Thank you for indulging us, Captain Kirk," Roark said, his eyes sweeping over the length of the creature. "I hope bringing her with you isn't an inconvenience. She's quite striking."

"It's not an inconvenience," Jim said.

"It's a necessity isn't it?" Roark asked slowly.

Jim shot his mother a look.

"No, she didn't tell me much," Roark said. "I know that may surprise you but she did draw the line in regards to your personal attachment to the Re'an snake as well as with the bond you share with Commander Spock. I've seen many things over the years, Kirk, and I can recognize a connection such as the one you have with this creature. She's important to you."

"She is," Jim admitted, seeing no sense in trying to negate Roark's observations.

"May I ask why she's important? Is she a necessity?" Roark asked again.

"I'll save that information for our second meeting, if you don't mind," Jim clipped. "As long as that meeting is under good terms."

"What makes you think we'll meet again?"

"A hunch," Jim said, watching him closely. He recognized Roark was fighting for the good of Starfleet but Jim could not trust him, not yet. Red Tail had proven to be worthy of his cooperation, and it was only reasonable to want Roark to prove himself, as well.

"Well, I hope the next time we meet, we meet as friends. Despite appearances, I'm sincerely interested to learn what happened to you, Captain Kirk, forcing you to depend on your lovely pet. Meanwhile, I must tell you that your 'Sam' is magnificent." Roark said, with a sweeping gaze on the snake that was almost too familiar - and unsettling to Jim. Jim silently urged Sam to find a spot on his body that was away from the other captain. In seconds she had hidden herself halfway around Jim. "Even though she's not the largest snake I've seen, she appears quite formidable."

"I believe she could hold her own in the wild," his mother murmured as her eyes traced the green, blue, and gold patterns along Sam's back.

Feeling a familiar pull, Jim glanced down at Sam. His brows knit together. An urge to protect her grew, becoming a fierce burning in his mind to remove her from their curious eyes. The other captain's impression of Sam didn't quite measure up to his own, and now, apparently, neither did his mother's. From the very beginning, Sam's size and her mysterious, bold markings hadn't mattered to him. They couldn't have mattered; he'd been blind. His impression of Sam was based on what he felt from her, the connection to the Re'an and nothing else.

And he wasn't quite sure that he appreciated their observations. "She's not a weapon," Jim said quietly. As Winona and Roark exchanged a look, he realized they understood he was speaking of more than just his snake. "She's peaceful, just as all the Re'an snakes were."

"We were somewhere beyond the Beta Quadrant about nine years ago," Roark began, his clear voice demanding their complete attention. "Commander Kirk and I had been working diligently to gain the trust of several high-ranking members of a particularly difficult species. I'd been in contact with them for years, slowly coming to an understanding. One particular meeting sticks in my mind to this day above any others, for it was two weeks after one of their own decided that he'd behaved too dishonorably to continue on with his sorry life."

"He committed suicide to right the wrong, to honor his family," Jim observed. It was a common custom among species placing great emphasis on their warrior societies.

"Yes," Roark said.

Sam loosed her coils around Jim's arm. Her head lingered in the air for a moment, before her head moved from side to side as if she were watching the other captain.

"Imagine the greatest warrior you ever met, scarred from hideous wounds and braver than any of his comrades. Imagine him being brought to his knees and whimpering like a child, terrified of an animal that he could no doubt crush with his own bare hands. The creature moves, coming towards him. His eyes widen with a fear so strong that his two hundred fifty pound body of pure muscle becomes immovable, incapable of reacting like the brave man he is. He then falters, his mouth falling open in pure fright, his body helpless to tremors," Roark said, smiling as if this wasn't a gruesome tale. "Perhaps he loses control and shits in his pants or the fear elicits a frightening physical reaction and he disgustingly foams at the mouth. He succumbs to the fear completely, thereby dishonoring his entire family. Please explain to me, Captain Kirk, this senselessness."

Jim considered it only briefly. "I assume that you wish for me to reach the following conclusion, that he reacted poorly to a threat on his life. It was a moment of weakness, and while we've all experienced those, we wouldn't take our own life as a result. This is the obvious answer yet nothing that has to deal with my mother's so simple."

"You are correct, Captain Kirk. I shouldn't be surprised but I am. Your mother did share how intuitive you are," Roark said, lips quirked into a wry smile. "There were two men. An unsuspecting creature took the first man's life violently and suddenly, and the entire house, among others, developed a unique and overwhelming fear of this creature at the same time that a disease threatened their survival. It happened over time, the disease and the ensuing chemical imbalance allowing this fear to imprint upon each member of their society as generations passed. It continued even after the disease had passed. Decades later, when the grandson merely came across what killed his beloved relative decades earlier, he did what I told you. He fell apart, but there'd been no intention to kill on part of the animal. The grandson had been safe all along, but he was forced to end his own life because he had failed. He'd been an utter coward but could not allow this disgrace fall to his family."

"It is a tragic tale but most illogical," Spock said.

"Indeed, it is," Roark said. "Mainly because no one will forget what happened. In fact, this fear has only grown, festering within their culture. It is ingrained in their minds, and we were the first outsiders to know that this weakness even existed."

"I'm sure you won't forget it, either," Jim said, eyes hardening as he thought of Captain Roark, or his mother, going as far as to provoke someone to fear and then to suicide. Suddenly it didn't seem very likely that they were speaking in a complete metaphoric sense.

Winona met his gaze unflinchingly. "We use what we have to."

"So this is how you play sides," Jim said, although deep down he understood the similarities to things he'd done throughout his entire life to survive. The difference between his crew and Project Raptor was that they didn't go searching for problems. He was an explorer. His first officer was an explorer. Every single crew member on his ship had their sights on the stars, not the dark politics which lingered after Marcus nor the dark politics of before, the ones had experienced himself when he'd fallen straight into Marcus' hands.

But Jim, despite all that happened to him since Re'an V, understood that the threats within and outside of Starfleet weren't going to just go away, even with Project Raptor's involvement. They weren't going away and the organization needed intelligent men and women to aid their cause. Jim simply wasn't as naive as he'd been before. Project Raptor existed as an integral piece in maintaining the balance within the system, weeding out weapons that had no business being in anyone's hands. He would do more harm if he revealed Project Raptor's existence to his own superiors, ultimately tipping the balance the wrong way.

"It is if we must," Winona said.

"No friends. Just enemies, no matter which way you look at it," Bones muttered.  "Don't look at us as if we are yours, Dr. McCoy." Roark said with an easy drawl. He turned to Jim. "Or yours, Captain Kirk. You now know which side we work for - yours."   
Jim flashed Roark a confident smile. "You say these things, but I can't give you the level of trust you or Red Tail expects. All I have is your word and a message from Red Tail, himself. Quite frankly, after what has already transpired and these riddles you speak of, it will be even harder for you both to gain my trust, although Red Tail has my cooperation. For now." Jim added, now staring them down. "I am fully aware of the necessity of an organization like Project Raptor. I only hope that you, Captain Roark and Commander Kirk, are truly working to rid Starfleet of its evils rather than working for your personal gain. So, yes, I will look at you as if you are a possible threat to my crew, and friend or enemy, it really doesn't matter, now, does it? I've already been fooled once by one of you. I'm going to do all that I can to make damn sure it doesn't happen again."

"And Red Tail?" Spock quirked a brow. "He condones these tactics that you tend to employ?"

"We don't take anything we do lightly, Mr. Spock," Winona answered first.

"Does he condone them, Commander Kirk?" Spock repeated.

"He gives us guidelines," she replied.

"We may not agree with them, but we follow them," Roark said duly. "That said, your mother is a Kirk."

"That's a little bold," Bones said.

"And I have no doubt that you understand, Doctor McCoy. The apple doesn't fall from the tree," Roark looked pointedly at Jim. "And that is why she works with me."

"But she is no longer serving as your first officer," Spock said.

"I received word just this morning that Commander Kirk is to be transferred back to the _Isis_ ," Roark said without a single glance at Winona, whose eyes filled with confusion.

"Roark?" She asked.

He looked at her and sighed. "You look as though you're going to your death, commander," Roark frowned.

"Why didn't you inform me of this before now, sir?" Winona's mouth pressed flat.

"And add to your apprehension?" Roark inclined his head towards Jim. "I didn't want you to be sidetracked as we prepared for this very conversation with Captain Kirk."

"I can see your point," she said thinly. "It will be an honor serving as your first officer once more, captain."

Jim could see it was as good as time as any to end their visit. They clearly weren't going to divulge any more details, and frankly, he'd had enough of Project Raptor - and his mother - for the day.

He looked at them both. "Captain Roark, Commander Kirk, I believe that our discussion is over. Thank you for the information concerning the Thriuna system. We shall leave the remaining scans to you and your crew's capable hands."

Roark's lips locked into a mocking smile. "Captain, it's been a pleasure."

They were mostly silent as Jim and Spock escorted the captain and commander to the transporter room, Bones also accompanying for the sake of appearances. Jim purposefully flanked his mother on her right, away from Roark. He'd already asked Scotty to assist in the transporter room, wanting only his senior command crew to hear anything else Roark and his mother might have to say at this point in time. Once they arrived, Jim dropped the act and the pleasant expression from his face so fast that Scotty looked at him with a frown on his face.

"Mr. Scott," Jim said shortly, meeting his gaze head on. "We'll need two minutes."

"Aye, Captain."

"Jim," Bones said under his breath to Jim before he turned to the platform. The doctor's eyes crinkled at the edges with worry. "Will you think about what I said earlier?"

Jim took a deep breath but it didn't steady him as much as he thought it would. "Bones..."

"She loves you," Bones' eyes were probing as he quietly spoke the words for Jim's ears only. "And I know you love her despite all of this. Don't part in a way that you'll later regret."

Jim didn't say that he would one way or the other. Instead, he turned and stepped forward to the platform until he stood in front of his mother. The added height as she stood on the steps allowed her to be face to face with Jim, but they were no where near thinking on the same level.

"Captain," she murmured, the rank immediately catching his attention. "May I have a moment with you, just as your mother before I go?"

Against his better judgement, he nodded in consent. Before he could move out of the way or deflect what was coming, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek, giving no thought to the snake along his shoulders. But she didn't stop there, and he couldn't find it within himself to stop her, either. The caress of her hands upon his face took him back to when that was all he could 'see,' when he trusted her and nothing tainted her actions as a Starfleet officer. His eyes closed briefly, the memory replaying over and over the goodness of it, how she'd touched him, loved him, despite his altered appearance and blindness.

"Thank you, Jim. You don't know what this means to me," she murmured, pressing a kiss against his forehead, a kiss he almost wished had lasted longer.

He suddenly remembered why he'd kept those scars and ground his teeth together, sending her a look as he pulled away. What the hell was he was doing?

 _You love your mother, Jim, and it is a normal reaction_ , Elise's voice came like a breeze, light and gentle as it passed through his mind. He was comforted, realizing that the healer remained somewhere nearby, concerned for his welfare.

_Normal after what she did?_

_She loves you and yes she has hurt you, but you now know that she is working for the benefit of the Federation, for the Starfleet that you love. It is up to you, Jim, but you are a strong, intelligent man who may be able to separate these two things in her life so you can have the motherly love you so desire._

_Elise, I don't know if I want to._

_I'm not sure that you don't._ Elise murmured, fading.

"Mom," Jim said, the endearment leaving his lips before he could think better of it.

He almost wasn't prepared for the way that her eyes filled with hope.

"I can't..." The words he wished to say lodged painfully in his throat as did his indecision. That he was responsible for the expectation on his mother's face was humbling, and he wasn't sure he wanted that responsibility. Not yet.

"It's okay," she said. "I understand."

Her hand brushed along his cheek, her fingers pausing when he almost said the words. "I..." _I love you. I want what we had this past week, but I am terribly hurt. I want to forgive you again but I can't. I don't want to be hurt again, and I love you_. He didn't know if she heard the words but something happened between them. He glanced up and stepped back to separate them. "Be careful."

"I will be, Jim," Winona said, her lips curving upwards. "If you ever need me - "

"I know," he interrupted brusquely. He took another step back and was about to give Scotty the orders when Spock interjected.

"Captain Roark, I have one question before you return to the Isis."

"Yes, Commander Spock," Roark said, somehow looking more regal while waiting to return to his ship.

"The species you described earlier," Spock asked. "Who were they?"

"I can't seem to remember, Commander Spock," Roark said, though his confidence poured from his person. "You see, that was nearly a decade ago."

"Indeed, human memory tends to be most disadvantageous at times such as these," Spock replied, hands clasped behind his back. "Perhaps when you recall the name of the particular species you will send us a subspace message. In the meantime, we will continue to review your logs and reports ourselves."

Irritation flashed over Roark's face before he masked his features. "You won't find it."

"Then I suggest you that you practice more care in recording these details," Spock said. "It reflects poorly upon you, Captain Roark."

"Well, I can't allow that to happen, now can I, commander?" Roark smiled through his teeth. "I guess I do remember, after all. They were Klingons."

"Fascinating," Spock murmured. "Your swift return of memory is to be commended, Captain Roark."

 _Klingons?_ That meant that Roark had just divulged one very powerful and very dark, disturbing secret. If it fell into the wrong hands, it could reap devastation upon the Klingon Empire or the Federation...or on both. Jim didn't know Red Tail well at all, but he had no doubt that Red Tail would frown upon that confession, even though Jim was trustworthy and wouldn't breathe a word of it to anyone. Still, Spock had skillfully forced Roark's hand. _Well played, Commander._

"Scotty, energize," Jim ordered.

Seconds passed and Jim now stared at the empty spot where his mother once stood. He dropped his shoulders in relief, the weight of snake comforting. "I thought he'd never leave," he muttered. Although Jim could honestly see why Roark had been chosen to help lead Project Raptor, something about him rubbed Jim the wrong way.

"He appears to have a deep understanding of your mother," Spock stated.

At that, Jim frowned at his first officer, perhaps a little too long because Bones caught the look on his face.

"I'm not too sure I like the man, myself, Jim, but it may be for a slightly different reason than you," Bones said quietly, nodding to the creature on Jim's shoulders. "I didn't care for the way he inspected Sam. Like she was a specimen."

Jim blinked slowly at him, blaming his sluggish reaction on the amount of concentration he'd been forced to expend the past thirty-six hours. "Really? That...that upset you?"

"Yeah," Bones groused. "Because even though you held it together, I could tell that it ruffled your feathers quite a bit. Sam isn't just a snake to you. She is more than that. She's your connection to the Re'an part of you that makes you you, Jim. And frankly, I was more than ready to cut that particular conversation short at the time."

Utterly shocked, Jim just stared at him.

"I concur," Spock said. "In addition, the peculiarities of the ensuing conversation lead me to believe that the information was offered intentionally, possibly with a hidden motive."

Unfortunately, Jim agreed. "Something wasn't quite right about that and I have no plans to let down my guard anytime soon. But, I have a question. How has he existed all this time, yet so little is known about both him and his ship?" Jim mused aloud.

"I don't have the answer to that, but I can honestly say that he is one person I hope that we never see again," Bones said.

"That is an illogical hope, doctor," Spock said.

"Of course it is," Bones muttered. "But I'll still hope it."

"It would be more advantageous if we postulate when Captain Roark will next contact us, for that has the greatest probability of occurring since he is in direct contact with Red Tail and the captain is an asset they will not soon forget."

"What if I don't want to," Bones said shortly.

Jim arched a brow and stepped back, arms crossed as he and Scotty watched what seemed to be becoming a verbal match.

"If you ignore my advice, you will be sorely unprepared."

Bones sighed, exasperated. "So? Your point?"

"It is illogical to upset with me, doctor, when I am only attempting to prepare you," Spock said.

"That's what Jim is here for," Bones grumbled. "Being prepared. Always be prepared. That's Jim's motto."

Jim snorted. "It really isn't, Bones."

"I do not believe the responsibility should be placed entirely on the captain, Leonard," Spock interjected. "And as the captain has indicated, you are incorrect in regards to his...'motto.'"

"Mr. Spock, I never knew that you were one to love having the last word, not that I didn't like it when you did that to Roark," Bones said with a scowl. "But, hell, let me be miserable in my illogical hope that the man never shows his face around here again."

Jim chuckled and clapped Spock on the shoulder. "He has a point, Spock," Jim said. "Bones has a right to choose to be miserable."

Displeasure crossed over Spock's face. "I must object, doctor."

"Of course you must," Bones muttered.

"You are my friend, therefore, it is illogical for me to 'let' you be mis- "

"Spock? Save it for another day," Bones scowl deepened. "Or I'm not coming to the party tonight."

Jim frowned, eyes flickering to his best friend. "Party?" He rubbed his jaw nervously. "What party?"

"Oh, it's just a celebration after all that has happened the past two months," Bones said, scowl fading. "You returning to command the _Enterprise_ , for one. Actually, that's the main thing. You."

Jim's hand stilled but his stomach kept on rolling. He was Re'an. He had no desire to be pulled into something that went against his new nature. Jim raised his hands and stepped back in protest. "I don't do those, Bones. I just...I don't."

"And you don't have to," Bones said, something in his eyes causing Jim to pause.

"I...I don't?" Jim asked, his heart still furiously unsettled at the idea of a party, anyway. They wouldn't really do that to him, would they? He ran his fingers over Sam's back out of habit. "But you said..."

"We understand that it is something you aren't comfortable with and you don't have to come."

Jim looked from Bones to Spock, confused. "Then why...why exactly is there a...a party?"

"Uhura is throwing a party for Spock because now that you're captain again, he is back to being your first officer," Bones said, something resembling a smirk rising on his lips. "It's worth celebratin', ya know? Spock being your first again?"

Jim blinked at them both, peering closer at Spock when he swore he saw a faint smile on the Vulcan. He didn't know whether to laugh or be relieved or...maybe a little bit of both.

"Ach, I cannae wait. Maybe I'll bring a wee bit of my whiskey along," Scotty slapped a hand on the console.

"Jim? Ya alright?" Bones asked.

"Uh...yeah. Back to being my first. Right. That makes sense. It..." Jim paused, still confused. It made no sense, really. He ran a hand through his cropped hair, at a loss as to how to respond to one of the most...the most ridiculous yet most wonderful things he'd ever heard. A party for a returning first officer...that wasn't for the returning captain. "That's..."

Jim looked up Bones again, wordless. If he was gaping like a complete idiot, he didn't even care. He was relieved and utterly ecstatic that the party wasn't for him.

"You alright there, Jimmy?" Bones asked. Jim shook his head, laughing and missing the slight quirk of Spock's mouth.

"Uh...yeah." Jim shifted his weight to balance himself and covered his mouth to suppress another laugh. "Yeah. 'm fine, Bones."

"You don't have to come. We all understand if you don't, and I'll swing by your quarters afterwards so I can fill you in all about the party and its guest of honor, who will be exhausted after all the attention he'll get tonight." Bones glanced at Scotty. "Oh, and I'm sure Mr. Scott can spare some whiskey for ya later, too, buddy."

Jim muffled more laughter, which came out like a snort behind his hand. "Guest of honor. Spock. Right." Jim dropped his hand and exhaled another slow breath. The weight on the party disappeared. He grinned, happy that his crew would have a good time tonight. "Great. I think that sounds just perfect because Spock deserves the pomp and circumstance. He's the best first there is." He shook his head, now even more relieved. "And maybe...maybe I will come."

"You'll come to the party?" Bones asked cautiously. The doctor raised a brow at Spock, who responded in kind.

Jim nodded, a little surprised at himself, too. "But only for a little while." He smiled at Spock. "I'd like to see the guest of honor."

 

* * *

 

"How on earth did you convince him to come?" Christine whispered to McCoy. The party had started about ten minutes ago and all were waiting for the guest of honor, including one Captain James T. Kirk who no longer celebrated anything except a few Re'an ceremonies.

McCoy took a swig of whiskey. It was a good question. He really didn't know for sure. "I think it was Spock. Jim wanted to come support him."

"Well, whatever the reason, I'm glad he's here. It looks good to the crew." She smiled, her gaze traveling to where Jim mingled right inside the door to the rec room. "They missed him."

"You think he knows that this is really for him?" Dr. Marcus asked as she joined them. "All of us were planning on celebrating his return whether he was here or not, but it makes it so much better for him to enjoy this, too."

McCoy shook his head, smiling to himself. "He's oblivious. And we'll have to keep it that way to keep him happy. Thanks to Uhura's ingenuity, it won't be a problem."

"Spock didn't put up a fuss about it, either, did he?" Dr. Marcus said with a small smile.

"Not one bit. Now, where is that hobgoblin?" McCoy muttered. He better arrive or Jim would start getting suspicious.

As if he felt their eyes upon him, Jim glanced over. He nodded to the group he was with and sauntered over to McCoy, his back towards the doors. "Bones, where's Spock?"

"Maybe he wants to make a grand entrance," McCoy said. "It is his party, after all."

Jim gave a short laugh. "I'm glad you did this for him," he said. "He took care of her, Bones. He took care of the _Enterprise_ while I ..." Jim's voice trailed off, his expression almost wistful. "I don't know how to thank him."

"I know, kid," McCoy said.

"I'm sure he'll be here soon," Christine said and glanced around the room.

"I hope so. I don't think I can stay here much longer," Jim murmured, fidgeting on his feet.

"If you have to leave, I'm sure Mr. Spock will understand," Christine said.

"I should wait for him. Hate to waste good whiskey." Jim frowned at the glass in his hand, swirling the liquid before lifting it up take a drink. At that exact moment, Spock stepped into the room, immediately causing a stir among the guests.

McCoy choked on his own drink. "It's even worse...than I thought it would be," he sputtered.

"Bones," Jim asked. "You alright?"

Dr. Marcus clapped a hand over her mouth mid-laughter. "He really did it," Carol managed. "I can't believe it."

"He really did do it," Christine eyes widened.

"Who did what?" Jim asked.

"If anyone could convince him, it would be Nyota," Christine snorted.

"I need a picture, Chris," McCoy decided, looking away from the spectacle that had garnered everyone's attention but Jim's. "Who knows what I'll be able to use this for later on."

"Already taken care of, Leonard," Christine said.

"What are you talking about?" Jim asked, craning his neck.

"The guest of honor has arrived, Jimmy," McCoy smirked at Jim, who had just taken another sip of his drink. "Turn around."

Jim obliged as McCoy gently guided him by the shoulders. Jim's eyes locked on Spock and he spewed out every last drop of whiskey from his mouth. It sprayed on McCoy but he didn't care. The look on Jim's face was worth the mess. "Oh my God, that's the...the..." Jim sputtered, eyes watering.

"Yep," McCoy drawled. He dragged his sleeve across his face. "Sure is."

"But...it's...it's...Bones," Jim choked.

"Your face is getting red, Jim," McCoy said, enjoying himself like he hadn't for a long, long time.

"Who let him out of his quarters like that?" Jim managed to whisper. "Wearing that...that..?"

"Well, it is his party. He can pretty much wear whatever the hell he wants to wear, Jim."

"But it's that same shirt that I wore after I took everything out of my dresser, Bones," Jim hissed. "And it's...it's..."

"It's what?" Christine asked sweetly.

"Horrible," Jim's voice almost squeaked. His eyes widened at McCoy. "I'm never going to try to prove a point to you ever again. Never, Bones."

"Why not?" McCoy asked, feeling even more smug with himself. "You're pretty good at presenting arguments. If it makes you feel any better, I think you actually won that day."

"Who cares about winning when you're wearing something hideous, Bones." Jim grimaced. "It's worse than I remember. I looked just as bad, didn't I?"

"It certainly didn't compliment your skin tone quite like it does Spock's," McCoy deadpanned. "I'd say it was worse, actually."

Jim groaned.

"You forgot that you added red baggy sweatpants to the ensemble," Christine said. "Or so I heard you added those sweatpants."

"It wasn't so bad," Carol mused.

Jim groaned again. "At least one person is on my side. I'm leaving. Here. Take it." Jim shoved his glass at McCoy, who grabbed it just in time as Jim began walking away. "They won't miss me. Especially Spock, who hasn't even seen me yet."

"Oh no, you don't," McCoy turned to catch up with him and clutched his arm. Jim stopped as McCoy pulled him closer. "Face the music, kid. Be the captain you say you are and go tell your first officer hi or that ya like his shirt."

Jim's eyes filled with panic as he watched Spock lingering with the crew and Uhura nearby, speaking with Dr. Jahnas and holding a box. "Oh, no. I'm not going to tell him anything when he's wearing that. It's too embarrassing and looks like a set up with 'Nyota Uhura' written all over it."

"You're going to let that stop ya?" McCoy said, mouth quirking. "Show them who's boss, kid."

"What am I supposed to say? Compliment him?

"Well, sure."

"I'd be lying!"

"Can't you just play along?" McCoy asked the adamant captain. He almost felt bad, having not expected such a passionate reaction from Jim.

"No!" Jim almost shouted. "I can't lie to him about something like that, Bones. That's not...it's not Re'an. I can't say things like that."

"Tone it down, Jim," McCoy hushed him. "I think that your bond buddy may have heard you. He's the guest of honor, remember. Kid, you're in a tough spot. You can't lie to him but you can't be hurting his feelings, either."

Jim sent him a miserable look. "You're pretty good at laying on the guilt, aren't you?"

McCoy merely shrugged.

Jim rolled his eyes. "Fine. If this means so much to you and to everyone else, I'll stay, just as long as I don't have to talk about the...the..."

"About the...what?" McCoy asked innocently.

"The fugly shirt," Jim muttered.

"Ouch," McCoy winced. "That's a little harsh, Jim."

"It's true, though," Jim mumbled.

"But you'll play along?"

Jim's half-groan sounded more like an exasperated sigh.

"Jim?"

"Yes, I'll play along," he muttered under his breath.

"Glad to hear it," McCoy said. "Because I think there's something that'll interest ya in the rectangular box Uhura's carrying."

"The box she's holding?" Jim whispered, his eyes wide as he leaned towards McCoy. "Why would it interest me? It's not a gift is it?"

"Now that you mentioned it, I do see a bow on top."

"Bones, you told me this party isn't for me," Jim hissed, "and that's the only reason why I even felt comfortable coming."

McCoy felt a twinge of guilt but it fled as he soon as he thought of normalcy the captain was experiencing after the turbulent past few days. This was important. The laughter and the camaraderie. The friendship that they all shared with Jim, and as Jim's physician and friend, he'd do whatever he could to nurture it. Times like these seemed to be all too rare, lately, and that had to change.

"The party is for Spock but that box is a gift, Jim, for you," McCoy said. He draped his arm around the captain's shoulders, leading him towards Spock. "And I'm sure it'll fit since you tried it on once - no, twice - already."

The second look on Jim's face was just as priceless as the first.

 

* * *

 

Winona cut the connection and stared at the screen as it faded to black. There was no turning back. It was done.

A rustling in the other room made her frown in more than irritation. It was Roark, she assumed, doing what he did best and dropping by unannounced in her quarters. He pushed the boundaries between them and if she could do anything right by her husband, it was this. Ignoring the captain's advances.

"How much time did you end up giving Jim?"

"I told them to give Jim four weeks," she said quietly without turning her head.

"So, they'll come after your son, wanting information about the dilithium in two."

"Most likely," she said.

"He'll be ready. It'll be soon after this, and you know he won't be letting down his guard for a long time." Roark paused. "If at all."

"Oh, that was made perfectly clear now, wasn't it?" She looked pointedly at him.

"I think I did manage to get under his skin, after all," he mused. And he had, purposefully, she knew, to keep Jim unsettled and therefore alert for the danger they were sending his way.

"You were a bit dramatic, Roark. But, you're right. He won't let down his guard and that's what we want him to do. Sometimes I love to hate you." She spoke her mind, as it was as normal as breathing for her to be so candid with Roark. Their relationship did not operate on the same level as most captains and first officers, as every last bit of it was influenced by their involvement in Project Raptor.

Roark smiled easily at her. "It's what I do best. Manipulation."

The word nudged an idea she'd had since returning to the Isis. "I think Jim might have a handle on that concept, too, Roark. We did have to return to the _Enterprise_ and reveal a little of our secret."

His face went blank, but then he broke into hearty laughter. "Damn, I wish I had met your son before the Re'an had laid their hands on him. I can see that we will get along just fine."

"You didn't inform Red Tail of my plan, did you?" She hated to ask, but she had to know.

Roark chuckled wryly. "You know he wouldn't condone our actions. Especially my part."

No, he wouldn't, but Winona could just imagine Red Tail finding out what she did and being furious at her for risking Jim's life like this and then at Roark for allowing it to happen. Only, deep down Winona knew that it wasn't a risk. Roark would make sure the _Isis_ followed the _Enterprise_ a respectable distance away the next few weeks in case something went wrong, but her son would pull through. He had to. They'd given Jim more than enough information to figure out on his own what he needed to do.

"You have to be pleased with yourself," he said. She tensed, sensing him right behind her. "Things have gone according to plan, at least for this."

"I'll be pleased once I hear that my enemy withered right in front of my son like the dishonorable being he is." He and whoever else ended up being in the same room. The more the merrier.

"You worked hard," Roark replied, his voice warm as he touched her shoulder. She slipped away from his hand and stood, shooting him a warning look. "You deserve to see it for yourself."

She'd cradled that thought in her mind for a long time, believing that she would be the one to bring her enemy to his knees. That she would watch him wilt before her eyes as he became a disgraceful, pitiful mess before his comrades. Those thoughts had fueled her passion all these years as she worked to gain the trust of her enemy. But she had done it. She found a way to avenge the loss of those precious supplies that could have saved her son from all of his suffering on Tarsus at the tender age of thirteen. Coincidentally, she also found the way to avenge Jim's suffering at the hands of the Re'an, for without the first suffering on Tarsus, the Re'an creatures may have never discovered Jim's compatibility as a resource. She'd found a way, but it wouldn't be her who would witness it.

"You really don't know why I am doing this, do you?" She asked, angry with the captain. It wasn't about her. None of it. It had always been about Jim.

"I do know," he said, just as curtly. "And as admirable as it is to have worked towards this for over a decade, I don't think that the man your son is now will ever understand your actions."

Her nose flared as his words hit their mark. "He would have at one time."

Roark nodded. "Of course he would have. But you've misguided yourself if you believe that this is going to make things easier between you and your son. It won't, Win."

She closed her eyes and breathed out as slowly as possible. Roark tested her all too often. It was obvious that this would make things harder for Jim to trust her. Then again, twisted things were becoming common occurrences between them, and Jim hadn't pushed her completely away this last time. When she opened her eyes, Roark's eyes had never left her face. It was one of his strong points, his patience with her. With everyone, excluding, perhaps, Mr. Spock. It was also one of the reasons Red Tail had chosen him to help lead Project Raptor. "Like I said, this isn't about me."

His eyes flickered down to the device on her desk, silent.

"What?" She huffed a breath. Roark's wordless moments always unnerved her.

"I have a feeling that a day of reckoning is coming." He said, the hushed words sending a chill down her spine that proved difficult to ignore.

"Of course it's coming," she muttered.

She knew exactly what that reckoning would be and she couldn't help but smile smugly back at Roark as the scene played in her mind. James T. Kirk, Tarsus IV survivor, will have soon unknowingly avenged all those who had suffered beside him on that cursed planet. It _had_ been about Jim. It wouldn't be Winona watching after all these years, after all this time that she had planned and plotted, gaining the trust of her enemy, her work now reaching its culminating moment. Fate and Jim's horrific and unfortunate experience with the Re'an had all provided the way. It wasn't about her, but she would be one of only two who knew the truth behind it all. It would be her son watching their enemy be disgraced before his very eyes.

Her son would see it, and that was worth far more than anything else she could've ever done.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! But not really! :) Don't hate me for that cliffhanger, but I believe the next part of this story will have a greater impact as its separate (and much shorter!) fic. Red Tail has an agenda, which you know is basically a good one. Actually, he has more than one agenda. :) Roark has an agenda, which is mainly tied into Winona's. Her rather dangerous plan begins with that canonical idea that I hinted about last chapter and also somewhat explained in this chapter concerning Tarsus IV. And when Jim and his crew come face to face with her agenda...hehe...it will be interesting, to say the least. Jim has endured and cannot be underestimated.
> 
> For the sake of keeping the sequel full of surprises, I'm not going to clarify much other than that, though I am sure if you google a few keywords, you will get some answers. I hope you like where this is going! :) Also, I am holding Red Tail's identity close to my chest for a little while longer, but it won't be forever.
> 
> The Klingon's fear of this "yet to be identified creature" is not canon. The disease I referred to is inspired by the Klingon augment virus. Personality changes was one side effect. There are two ways a Klingon can commit suicide honorably. I added at third: if a warrior is unable to fight because of his fear, he has dishonored himself. To retain honor for the remaining members of his house (but not himself), he must commit suicide.
> 
> I realize some of you may want more of the actual Re'an mission. I cannot promise anything but i did throw around the idea of someday writing a two or three shot to explain a couple of things. I had logs written for every day on Re'an V but found it too cumbersome to write them all into the story. Honestly, though, I already gave all the information necessary to the story as a whole, because this story is 'much more' than just the Re'an mission.
> 
> I can't thank Rubyhair enough! She's a wonderful, creative beta who has pushed me at the right time to make this story better. I'd love to explain which plot points of Indigenous she came up with, and in turn inspire me to expand on them, but I can't yet because I think I'd give away too much and I don't want to do that! :)
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed this final installment. I'd love to hear from you. Reviews are like gold and I greatly appreciate them. Even more after a monster story like this one! Hope to see you soon, maybe when I begin posting that sequel. I hope to post the first chapter within a couple of weeks to keep the momentum going. Until next time! :)


	44. Author's Note

The sequel is finally posted! Sorry for the longer wait! I hope that you will continue to follow the rest of Jim's story in Part Two of the series and check out _Call of the Void._   I have really appreciated your support. I can't even begin to tell you how very encouraging it was to know you were reading and to also see those comments. So, thank you from the bottom of my heart. _Call of the Void_ will definitely give you those answers you were looking for at the end of _Indigenous_ , including those answers to your questions about Winona and what she's planning. It's my humble opinion that Jim's story will come full circle in this sequel. :) I really hope you keep reading and most importantly, enjoy the next story. Thanks again!  


 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Rogue - New Beginings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3806497) by [QWho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QWho/pseuds/QWho)




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